


in lieu of goddesses, their daughters walked the earth

by spitefulspphic



Series: the sun, the moon, and the ocean [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, Avatar Yue (Avatar), F/F, Found Family, No War AU, Spirits, Spiritual Bonds, Team Up, background suki/mai, background zuko/sokka, but ozai is still an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29212266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitefulspphic/pseuds/spitefulspphic
Summary: there are three things in the world that remain unconquerable: the sun, the ocean, and the moon.(or; azula, katara and avatar yue, are inexorably entwined by fate)
Relationships: Azula & Katara & Yue (Avatar), Azula & Mai & Ty Lee, Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara/Yue (Avatar), Mai & Ty Lee & Zuko, Mai/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: the sun, the moon, and the ocean [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209719
Comments: 62
Kudos: 179





	1. sun, ocean, moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is an avatar!yue au but azula and katara play equally large roles in it. 
> 
> quick background: the hundred year war never happened and aang never got frozen in an iceberg. yue is the avatar after him. azula, who is presumed dead, lives with the sun warrior tribe. katara is the same except she got to have a normal childhood and her mom is alive. 
> 
> also this chapter mostly sets up the au and show azula, yue, and katara's place within it.

> _she practiced her girlhood with heat-stricken hair, sheared nails, scrubbed skin._
> 
> _she baptized herself with fat wrung from beans and battered into butter._
> 
> _she oiled her joints with poise,_
> 
> _scented her flesh with propriety,_
> 
> _and clothed herself in performance._
> 
> **—kayla whaley, _tended, tangled, and veined_**

* * *

**Sun**

…

The Fire Lord intended for her to die in the ocean.

Ozai thought he’d created a perfect shadow of himself in Azula, had made her danger manifest until she became too dangerous even for him. And the only way to undo all of that hard work was to throw her to the abyss, subject her to the only element that could put out her fire. He was a fool and a coward unworthy of his title. A pathetic excuse for a Fire Lord.

When she said this thought out loud—a year after the “accident” when the idea of it no longer paralyzed her with something like _hurt_ or _fear_ —Rikai laughed so hard while putting Azula’s hair up that she had to start all over again.

“Ozai isn’t as clever as he thinks he is,” she said smoothly after she recovered from her fit of laughter. “Too bad for him that he thought it was a good idea to bring me along with you.”

“I would’ve managed on my own.” She held up her chin.

Rikai answered by tugging gently on a lock of hair, then a fragile: “Probably.”

Sometimes she didn’t appreciate her self-proclaimed guardian enough, so she amended with a roll of her eyes. _I know I’m wrong_ , it said. Rikai’s reflection in the mirror smiled at Azula.

Rikai had been the reason Azula was still alive at all. Ozai’s assassination attempt was sloppy in the first place, but the main reason she evaded death that night was her personal teacher’s quick thinking and swift action. Ozai had sent her to Agna Qel’a to meet the newly proclaimed Avatar in his stead, and by the time their ship was sabotaged by his men, Rikai had long dragged Azula to a landing boat and rowed away to safety. Azula had watched as the royal sloop meant to transport her safely to the north burst in flames and slowly sank down into the depths of the ocean, tucked under Rikai’s arms as if to shield her while she had been too shocked and confused to wrestle out of her embrace.

But Rikai had no time to think of a plan beyond that, and Azula had been _eleven_ and in denial of her father’s betrayal. It was lucky that Agni blessed them enough that their aimless paddling on a tiny boat led them to the Sun Warriors, despite how needlessly unpleasant that first encounter had been.

Ome peeked her head inside their hut. “Is she ready?”

“Spirits, I’m the one getting sent to Ran and Shaw to be possibly devoured by jaws or flames or both, not you,” snarked Azula. “Don’t be so antsy.”

“You’re not going to be devoured,” Rikai insisted. “This is your second time facing the ancient masters.” Indeed, it was. If Ran and Shaw deemed her worthy during the ritual the first time around, what could’ve possibly changed their minds when Azula had been perfectly well-behaved? She’d been playing nice with the tribespeople. “And they asked for you this time. Rare as that is, the elders don’t seem to think it’s to be worried about. If anything, it’s a tremendous honor.”

“Then kindly tell your _beloved_ to shut up and stop worrying.”

Azula didn’t have to look at them to know they were both blushing. She smirked when they fell quiet. Good. Azula needed the silence to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t everyday that two ancient dragons asked for your presence, and she doubted it was for a little chat.

*****

_“Your Highness, we have to leave this ship before—”_

_Azula wrenched out of her grip. Rikai was a reasonable woman, she wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her, she knew the consequences. It didn’t make sense._

_“I could have you executed for that,” she said with enough venom, enough edge. It wasn’t an empty threat._

_Instead of fear, determination flashed in Rikai’s eyes. “If you don’t come with me, we’d both be dead!”_

*****

Rikai was worrying the inside of her cheeks, eyes trailing the tiny figure making her descent on the massive stairway. Ran and Shaw had retreated back to their caves. When their flames had went up like whorls of light, a swirling wall of color obscuring Azula from sight just like when she had sought them out the first time, Rikai had counted up to seventy-eight until the flames finally waned. Azula was hefting something with both hands as she was descending the stairs, but Rikai was too relieved to process any information other than _they didn’t devour her, thank the spirits_.

There was never a cause for concern. But as a result of their circumstance and her very own choices, the princess was now the most important thing in Rikai’s life, her greatest responsibility, and she was possessed of a painfully protective nature.

She would never regret saving the princess. She’d known Azula since she was still learning how to read, being the only one of her teachers and royal chaperones who had the patience, the spine, and the knowledge to catch up with the precociously clever little royal to last. She had known Azula when she still tugged at her mother’s robes for attention, when she still played with little Prince Zuko, when she still sought other people’s approval and not just her father’s twisted expectations.

The letter had come from one of the Fire Sages, one of the younger ones. He had known of the prophecy and had investigated what Ozai intended to do with the knowledge, had trusted Rikai enough to tell her what he had found out to keep herself and the princess safe. Rikai didn’t even hesitate, didn’t have the luxury of time to do so. She had no clue if any of the ship’s crew or the guards the Fire Lord had sent to escort them could be trusted, but she knew the princess was unaware of the danger to her life. Rikai would have to sacrifice her honor if her charge died under her watch.

(There was also the matter of her _obligation_ to a cause bigger than herself—what her superiors asked her to preserve, the reason the fire sage informed _her_ and not anybody else in that ship—but that hardly mattered now.)

Ome nudged her lightly, banishing Rikai’s musings, when Azula had gone down the last of the steps. She walked in front of the chief, held up the object in her hands, and the crowd started to murmur.

Rikai craned her necked and saw it—

Ome gripped her arm tightly, stifling a gasp.

Cheers and chants rang out like a ripple, gradual at first, then all-consuming. The Sun Warriors grabbed Azula, holding her up in the air. Azula, who normally hated being touched, was so clearly beaming. Ome had joined up with the rest of the warriors, but Rikai was rooted on the spot. Gaping, she watched Azula turn her face to the sky as she floated in a wave of strong arms. A child still, but majestic under the sunlight.

When the warriors finally put her down, Azula ran up to Rikai and the crowd parted for her, the dragon egg still cradled in her slim arms. She was grinning, and Rikai grinned back.

“What have you got there, Your Highness?”

Azula laughed, and it wasn’t the sharp and humorless laughter that she’d modeled after Ozai. It was bright and ringing and entirely hers.

“A dragon, apparently,” said Azula, her smile baring teeth.

Ozai was right to fear his daughter.

*****

_Azula held her golden headpiece in her hand, gripping hard enough to leave indentations on her palm. She could throw it away. Azula had no use for it. It didn’t mean anything, not here with these barbarians, not here with the chaperone who committed treason to save her from death, because apparently saving her from a sabotaged ship was treason now. Anywhere else, the sight of it donned atop her topknot would make men and women grovel at her feet, or at the very least it would make her identity known and she would be brought back to court where she belonged, not here on this forsaken remnant of a bygone civilization whose people she thought had been erased from the face of the earth._

_The sun warrior woman was looking at her like_ that _again: head tilted to side, eyebrows pinched, narrow eyes assessing her like a confounding puzzle—or a helpless prey._

_“What?” Azula snapped._

_“You seem too small to be a princess. Even for a child.”_

_She was, in fact, taller than Azula and Rikai both. She had inquisitive deep brown eyes, almost black, and a face as smooth as polished pebble. The Sun Warriors’s idea of hospitality towards those who seek only refuge was a ramshackle hut and a particularly annoying guard. How quaint._

_“The chief is speaking with your mother.”_

_“She’s not my mother.”_

_“Oh,” the woman said, perking up. “So…she is not spoken for?”_

_Azula chose to ignore that. “Do you have a name?”_

_“Ome. My name is Ome.”_

_“Well, Ome… here’s what’s going to happen.” Azula clasped her hands primly on her lap, eyeing up the much taller and much older woman. “If your chief doesn’t return my tutor to me before the sun sets, I will be forced to take her myself. If that means I have to go through you, then I assure you it won’t end well for you or any other person who would be so foolish as to think they can stop me. Am I being clear enough, Ome?”_

_She said all that cordially, punctuating her words with a smile, as if she were a foreign dignitary having a dull conversation with her host over tea._

_The warrior woman blinked. Then she started to smile, showing perfect teeth, and much to Azula’s chagrin the woman only seemed amused._

_“I think I can see it now.” She pointed a finger at Azula, not quite mocking but certainly close to it. “You_ are _royalty.”_

*****

The bonfire was a sunburst of bright, crackling light that seared through the darkness while the sun took her slumber. A pale imitation, but grand enough for the little gathering. Azula was perched at the edge of the circle surrounding the massive fire, content enough to watch the other tribespeople. Above them the night sky glittered full of stars, Azula noted as she briefly glanced up. Even the moon had her fellows.

She watched as children chased each other, their parents preoccupied with their revelry, laughter and music swirling in the warm air. Even Rikai, who was inebriated enough to allow Ome to drag her in the middle of the circle, was enjoying herself. She was actually _dancing_ , which in itself was not that much of a rare sight these days except for the fact that she was pressed close to Ome with their arms around each other, separating only when the dance dictated. Azula’s acquaintances, a few girls her age that were tolerable enough for their company to be something close to pleasant, were also swaying and jumping about near the fire. One of them, a girl named Muli, kept throwing glances at her every now and again, but she knew better than to insist that Azula join her. Azula had to admit she was the slightest bit tempted. The firelight made Muli’s soft round face somewhat prettier. 

Azula the flawless and perfect princess would not be caught dead in such a gathering or think about how a girl’s pretty face made her feel. Azula, the one who was first and foremost the daughter of Ozai, would find a way to sneak out of the island one way or another only to return with a legion of Fire Nation soldiers to claim the territory in the Fire Lord’s name. But she did none of those things, and even if going back to Ozai’s side was an option she found that she had lost her appetite for it. Azula was no longer sure what she was, hadn’t been sure ever since she had to flee from everything she knew.

Three years acclimating and living with the Sun Warriors changed Azula in many ways, more than she could even notice in herself, but some part of her, fossilized in her bones, mourned for the princess she was before she turned from being an instrument in the Fire Lord’s plans to an obstacle that was promptly discarded, swatted at like a stray insect. If only she could burn that part like she could with anything else. She hated how Ozai still had a power over her, however small.

An even smaller part of her wondered what became of her friends, if Mai still pretended to be disinterested with the world or if soft, gentle Ty Lee remained the same. She idly wondered what became of her older brother, who Ozai would be forced to make do with. In another world, one without prophecies and delusional Fire Lords who fell for them, perhaps it would be Zuko in her place. She doubted he would survive if that were the case. Fate was both kind and cruel that way.

Rikai never stopped giving her lessons, and each day Ome would train her. To what end, she wasn’t exactly certain, not like before when imperfection meant weakness, disapproval, and she had no choice but to be the best. But here, among these sun-drenched people, not getting the hang of a technique the first few times did not mean utter failure. Here, rigid discipline and a warrior’s wisdom were valued, but so was joy. The fundamental philosophies of firebending she grew up learning were surprisingly short-sighted in the face of the Sun Warriors’ enlightened ways, and even Azula had to admit Ome was a more capable Sifu than any of her previous ones. She _delighted_ training under Ome, despite how mildly irritating the woman was at times.

A steam of breath and a snout nudged her back. Azula nearly stumbled forward, then reached behind to Lan’s scaly head. He had grown enough in the past year that he dwarfed Azula’s hand as she ran it through the long downy mane on his neck. Dragons grew fast. They didn’t seem to stop doing so either. When Lan was younger, he’d shed his scales and grew longer and wider almost as swiftly as Azula could learn how to perform an advanced firebending form in her sleep. Azula herself was a growing girl, though she had no scales to show for. She would have to shed other parts of herself for space, to let go of the old to bring forth the new.

She kept running her hand through Lan, gentle as the way she used to pet him when he was still a hatchling, until his head collapsed near her feet with a thump. He closed his eyes and released a pleased, contented snort, startling giggles out of a nearby huddle of children. Azula was hit with a sharp jolt of affection.

Even if she had nothing else, she had her dragon. Even if she wasn’t sure who she was supposed to be anymore, she at least had this bond, this responsibility, this companionship. And she would do everything in her power to deserve him.

*****

She made a series of perfectly executed kicks, leaping in the air like a phoenix in flight, then landed gracefully with her open palm outstretched and licking out a tongue of blue flame. That would have been enough for a lesser prey, but Ome was a predator in her own right. She was grinning and deflecting the entire time, though that last attack had almost caught her unawares. If Azula had not restrained her flame a little, Ome’s clothes would’ve ended up half-singed and Rikai, who was watching from a distance, would berate the both of them for it.

Ome inhaled a great gulp of air and expelled a stream of fiery breath from her mouth. Azula ducked away from it. She made a sweeping motion with her feet, aiming it at Ome’s legs, and the woman had to cease her dragon-like display to avoid having them burnt. Azula knew Ome was just showing off to Rikai—breathing fire was flashy but wasteful. It also left the lower body vulnerable so the element of surprise was ideal to supplement the move. Ome knew all of that, she’d been the one to teach Azula how to perform and combat the technique.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Ome steadied herself from her brief wobble and held up one hand. They’d been sparring for a while but her Sifu wasn’t even out of breath, nor was Azula.

Azula straightened from her offensive stance. She gave Ome a quick bow before relaxing her posture.

“You tire so quickly, old woman.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m only twice your age.”

“Still old.”

Ome gave Azula an assessing look. “Your defensive style has improved. Not only did you manage to evade my dragon’s breath, you also forced me out of balance.”

“Well, your execution was poor. Stop inviting Rikai to watch us, you get distracted when she’s around.”

“I’ll have you know that Ome did not invite me,” Rikai said, striding over to them. _Great_ , _now they talk the same_. “I came to tell you that the chief has lent me some of his ancient sacred texts, but you two seemed occupied so I decided to wait.”

Azula perked up. Ome looked surprised. “How did you manage to get him to agree to that?”

“I brought Lan with me.”

A shriek emitted from above them as if to confirm that.

“You used my dragon to bribe the chief?” Azula was impressed despite the blatant exploitation of her dragon. Perhaps that was precisely why she was impressed.

“I did not bribe the chief.”

“Intimidated him, then.”

“I indirectly _persuaded_ him using your dragon. You know how everyone fawns over Lan,” Rikai said. “Anyway, do you wish to learn some ancient Sun Warrior knowledge or not?”

Azula spent the rest of that day reading about the Sun’s daughters, forgotten by the rest of the world but for the people who still clung to a more enlightened age.

*****

At fifteen, Azula began to have the strangest of dreams.

Strange dreams were too close to _prophecies_ for comfort. Her first reaction was to ignore them, chalk them up to an overactive subconscious. She tried prolonging her daily meditation and breathing exercises to hopefully banish them. When the dreams persisted, she decided to tell Rikai.

She described the recurring dream with as much detail as she could manage—Azula drowning, down down, down a bottomless sea, a figure diving after her with slender hands grabbing and pulling her up to the surface, a girl with pale hair and a face she could never seem to remember by the time she woke waiting for her and her savior by the shore, eyes glowing white as she beckoned to them… then a shadow, large and tall and in the shape of a man appeared behind the girl whose eyes glowed. The shadow grew, and Azula released flames from her hands, filling everything with nothing but a burning blue.

Rikai frowned in thought, her eyes staring at nothing. The sun was beginning its descent, the clouds tinted with colors like some celestial spirit had spilled watercolor over them. Rikai was still quiet. Azula knew better than to disturb her when she was being like this.

Sometimes Azula pondered over what would’ve become of Rikai if she weren’t with Azula on that ship. Although not a bender herself, she was descended from a line of firebending teachers, with ancestors who trained Fire Lords and Avatars alike. She was much younger than all of Azula’s other tutors, though in Azula’s eyes she was wiser than all of them combined.

Fierce. Firm. Warm but not weak. All of which showed in her eyes. An open book, except for when a situation called for her to drop a veil over her emotions. She was quite good at that, a politician in a scholar’s garb. She would have propelled her status at court, given time. Such a waste. But Rikai seemed happy here, with Azula and Ome.

She finally turned to Azula. “Glowing eyes, you say?”

Azula nodded. Rikai released a long sigh that carried a weight beyond her years.

“I never really told you much about the prophecy, didn’t I?”

Azula swallowed, not liking where this conversation was headed at all. It was no fault of Rikai’s that Azula knew little of the prophecy that made Ozai want her dead; she herself avoided the subject like a plague. But she knew she could not avoid it forever.

“The Fire Sages told the Fire Lord about a vision,” Rikai began. “In it, he was Fire Lord not only to our nation but to all nations, much like what Fire Lord Sozin had wanted before Avatar Roku had put a stop to his plan.

“But this future was not guaranteed. There was also another vision, one that saw his downfall in the hands of the Avatar with the aid of his own flesh and blood.” Rikai’s eyes flashed briefly, a rage reserved only for Ozai clashing with her pride for Azula, all simmering in her gaze. “It’s _you_. The prophecy named you as the Avatar’s ally, the one who would help defeat Ozai.”

Azula stared at her.

Ozai had grown cold towards her in the days before he sent her north, had stopped observing her during her training, had not uttered a single word to her unless it was to point out her foibles, real or imagined. Azula had thought then that she wasn’t impressing him enough, that _she_ wasn’t enough. She eventually realized, not long after the incident, that Ozai had only been cutting his losses when he cast her aside and had her die on a burned, sunken ship. He’d spent too much time and effort building up his own downfall.

The Avatar, though. That was new. Something that could never have crossed her mind.

And to think she was supposed to meet the Avatar if Ozai’s assassination attempt hadn’t derailed her. It was almost poetic. Ozai had always been prone to dramatics, of twisting reality to fit a narrative: Ozai wanting to achieve what Sozin failed to do, Ozai favoring a younger and stronger child to rise above his firstborn much like he himself had overshadowed his useless older brother, Ozai sending her to meet the Avatar despite what the prophecy told him only to have her killed before she could get anywhere near the North Pole, tempting fate then setting it ablaze.

Rikai looked worried and mildly alarmed when Azula fell into near-hysterical laughter.

“Azula…”

“I’m fine, Rikai. No need to worry that head of yours.” She laughed again. “So, the Avatar’s eyes really do glow? I always did assume it was just a stupid myth to scare off the Avatar’s enemies.”

“You’re taking this… better than I expected.”

“Well it’s not like knowing is going to change anything, Rikai.”

In a way, the Fire Lord had succeeded. There was no way the Avatar would find her here, and she had no desire of having anything to do with the Avatar.

Rikai stood and headed back to their hut, and as soon as she disappeared inside Azula drew a deep, lungful of air and let it out in a long exhale. She hadn’t spoken with Rikai about what happened in a long time, not out loud. They’d always tried to skirt around the topic of Ozai.

When Rikai came back, she handed her a delicate piece of paper. “The scroll I received by messenger hawk the night we escaped.”

“You kept it?” A zula looked at Rikai, who nodded but didn’t say anything more.

The letter’s phrasing was direct, straightforward, inelegant—all signs of someone in a hurry—but it told Azula everything Rikai had recounted. There was one other thing that stood out, some sort of poetic fragment scrawled at the end:

_Sapphire is the sun—_

_that white petals bend towards._

Azula was well-read in many forms of Fire Nation texts and literature, and though she had never dawdled over poetry unless to study them for any political allusions she knew this one wasn’t particularly good. It was probably some kind of code. Such a thing would usually douse her with suspicion, but this was _Rikai_. She was one of the only two living creatures in this world that Azula begrudgingly accepted being soft for, the other one being a dragon. (Rikai would likely argue that there were three, but Azula would _never_ admit to holding any fondness for Ome to anyone, including herself.)

Still, she couldn’t just ignore it. She met Rikai’s eyes.

“Those are some pretty words by the end. I wonder… how can the sun be sapphire? Was he talking about me?”

Rikai rolled her eyes. _You’re correct_ , it said.

“I should’ve known you would notice that.”

“Is this some secret language you share with your friends?” she asked.

“If you consider someone from the same Pai Sho club a friend, then your guess is accurate.”

Azula did not buy that for a second, but she was going to allow Rikai to keep this one secret from her.

*****

When Lan was already big enough to be mounted, most of her hours were spent taking to the skies.

They started making daily patrols above the tribe’s perimeters (which, in Ome’s words, _puts some use into a useless hobby_ ). It was during one of those technically-not-leisure flights that they spotted the ship heading close—dangerously close—to their shores. 

What Azula was supposed to do was head back and inform Ome, then Ome would inform the chief, who would then send out a group of warriors to deal with the outsiders. But she bypassed all of that and urged her dragon to land, deciding to take matters in her own hands. She was itching for a real fight. Sparring with seasoned warriors was thrilling, sure, but devoid of any real stakes. Her skills were great but untested, and she wasn’t about to let an opportunity slip when it was presented right in front of her.

(She would later realize her error. Loath as she was to admit it, but she really should have done what she was supposed to do. She was in no way prepared to deal with any of _this_ —)

* * *

**Ocean**

…

There are three things that Katara loved most: her family, her village, and her tribe. What else would a girl like her want for in life?

A lot, apparently.

She loved her family with all of her, but she wanted to be more than just someone’s daughter or sister—she’d feel guilty whenever the thought crept at her. She loved her village, but it wasn’t exactly large, and she knew each and every corner like the back of her hand. She loved her tribe, but she also wanted to see more of the world. Raised in the South Pole, her heart would always call for the frozen terrain and the imposing icebergs as white as shark teeth.

But...

_But nothing_ , she told herself firmly. _This is your home, why should you ever wish to leave?_

She had her bending, at least. That was something special she could claim, something not so mundane and ordinary despite the many other benders in the village. Something that wasn’t as static as the rest of her life. Water would change if she willed it to, her skills evolved after countless hours of training with Master Hama, she stood out amongst her peers for her great skill, for being more motivated. Nothing about waterbending was unchanging.

She could be a waterbending master someday; she could at least hold on to that.

*****

Her mom was the first to notice. It wasn’t surprising; Mom had always known Katara better than anyone.

They were left at home while Dad took Sokka with him on a hunt for the first time. Her brother had been so happy, the happiest she’d ever seen him, and she was glad. Truly. But she also envied Sokka and his simple desires, his much more attainable ambitions, like hunting with Dad and studying under the tutelage of innovators and engineers alike to improve their tribe someday with all his acquired knowledge.

So Katara was moping, and her mother caught on.

Mom was sitting her favorite chair when she beckoned Katara over, patting at her lap. She made a face at that, making Mom laugh, then came to sit on the nearby chair. Mom reached for her, kissing the top of her head. “My baby’s all grown up,” she said, chuckling again at the look on Katara’s face. “So, what’s troubling you?”

“It’s nothing,” Katara replied resolutely.

Mom hummed, a skeptical little lilt at the end of it. Katara smiled helplessly and let her heart spill.

It all came pouring, one word tumbling after another, and all the while, her mother listened with one of those open expressions that could melt any snow, banish any fear or any biting cold. Katara told her about the guilt lancing at her chest whenever Katara wanted for more, and it was by this point that Mom’s face shifted, a small frown disturbing her features.

Mom took both of her hands, squeezing them. “Don’t ever feel bad for wanting all those things, Katara. You’re…” She took a shaky breath and for a moment Katara thought her mother was going to cry, but it passed and a serene smile took its place. “You’re my girl. You deserve the world. I’m already so proud of you, and your father too. Every day we’re grateful to have you and Sokka in our lives, and we don’t ever want either of you to feel like anything is stopping you from going after what you want in life, or to build a life of your own.”

Katara could feel her bottom lip start to wobble, her eyes stinging with the threat of tears. “I just thought I was being selfish.” Her mom shook her head at that. “I’m already _so_ lucky, to have you and Dad and Sokka and Gran Gran and the village… but I can’t help but think… what if there’s more out there for me?” _And maybe there won’t be, and I’ll end up coming back here empty-handed, but I’ll have seen and experienced more by then and that would be more than enough for me._

A warm hand fell on her cheek. Katara sniffed, smiling up at her mom.

“It’s okay for you to want to go out into the world, Katara. The village will always be here, we’ll always be here.”

Mom smiled, so much understanding and love in the deep blue wells of her eyes, and Katara felt unburdened.

*****

_The night her daughter was born, the world howled. Katabatic winds of a stronger kind nearly devastated the village’s ships and canoes, shook the foundations of their shelters. The sea became erratic as waves crashed into one another._

_The village still stood when morning came, an auspicious sign according to the elders. But inside their humble home, the only thing that mattered was the baby girl bundled in thick furs and cradled in Kya’s arms._

*****

Her first adventure did not come until later. Half a year to be exact. Dad was set to visit their sister tribe up north. The Avatar had apparently mastered her native element and the chief was holding a celebration to honor his daughter. As one of the southern chiefs, Dad was invited, and he was bringing his family with him.

(He and Mom told her and Sokka together: _We were thinking,_ they said at the same time, laughed, then Mom nodded for Dad to continue _. We thought the two of you should come with us, see Agna Qel’a for yourself—_ he was cut off when Katara and Sokka leapt at their parents in a tight bear hug.)

Katara had never journeyed this far, and there wasn’t much that one could do while travelling on a ship. She spent that time practicing her bending, or occasionally splashing Sokka with seawater whenever he decided that annoying her was an appropriate way to burn time. It was all worth it, in the end, when they arrived. The city was beautiful, but Katara thought it couldn’t hold a candle to _her_.

She caught sight of her for the first time on a gondola. By all appearances it was uneventful, anticlimactic, a brief locking of gazes and nothing more. And it did seem like that to Katara, in a way, except something deep and unbendable compelled her to keep her eyes on the girl for as long as possible. Their gondolas passed each other in opposite directions; Katara looked over her shoulders and stared after her.

Later, Katara would learn her name: Yue the Moon-blessed, the Avatar, Princess of the Northern Water Tribe.

*****

Kya knew her children well. There was little the two of them could hide from her, and if they did, more often than not they would turn to her or their father before long.

When she looked over to them at their table, tracing the direction of their gazes, she knew right away what was going on. Sokka was no surprise, he made no secret of it, but Katara…Kya hadn’t known, and she tucked this new knowledge in her mind where it was safe, just like he did with Sokka’s.

When Katara still kept glancing towards the dais long after Sokka finally made himself walk over and talk to the lonely Fire Nation prince on the table beside theirs, Kya paid closer attention. Where Sokka was shyly sneaking glances Katara was staring attentively, as if cataloguing the subject of her careful gaze, almost like a painter. She was surprised to find that Avatar Yue was staring right back at her daughter, looking faintly bemused.

Kya turned away then, hiding a smile behind her hand. Best not to disrupt whatever silent communication was happening between Katara and the young Avatar. Such matters are better left to blossom by itself.

*****

Chief Arnook and his daughter rose from their seats on the dais. They went around the banquet hall, both of them taking opposite sides to greet foreign guests and old friends alike. There were just too many guests to go through.

Avatar Yue had taken the side where Katara’s family sat.

Katara’s heart thrummed inside her ribs while the Avatar slowly glided from one table to another, receiving praises and answering questions with a graceful smile. She didn’t even laugh at Sokka as he stumbled through a slightly intelligible greeting, because all her attention was glued to the princess. Her hair stood out even more with the sun still at sleep, the moon and the lamps the only ones that could compare. White as moonlight on water. Dad was saying something and gesturing a hand to Katara, and for the second time that evening Avatar Yue’s eyes landed on her.

“It is nice to meet you, Katara. I’m Yue,” she said, like her name wasn’t known by everyone. She bowed slightly. Katara did the same, lower than what propriety asked of her, then met the other girl’s eyes again.

“The pleasure is all mine, Avatar Yue.”

“Just Yue, please. If that’s okay.” She surprised Katara with a bright smile. “So, you’re a waterbender?”

“The very best!” blurted Sokka, then scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I mean, she’s really great. My sister’s the best bender in our tribe.”

“My brother exaggerates, Av– Yue.” Katara did her best not to cut her brother a glare. She appreciated the gesture but now really wasn’t the time to—

“So that wasn’t at all close to the truth?” Yue arched a brow at her.

“Well, it’s not entirely inaccurate.” Katara could _not_ believe what was coming out of her mouth. “I’d be more than pleased to demonstrate. For the sake of accuracy, of course.”

“Of course,” Yue echoed, and there was something conspiratorial about her gentle smile. “I train every morning in the courtyard. I’d love for you to join me... that is, if you want to.”

Yue’s features went from playful to tentative in a blink of an eye. She wasn’t sure what to think of that, but Yue seemed sincere, almost hopeful. And Katara could no more prevent herself from saying yes to the offer than she could stop herself from breathing. 

A gentle clearing of someone’s throat, then her mother’s voice doing the speaking for her. She’d grown quiet and only stared at Yue without saying anything, teetering to the edge of impoliteness. Tui and La.

“I look forward to it,” Yue said to her. Another smile, another slight bow to Katara’s parents, then Avatar Yue walked over to the next table, taking Katara’s eyes with her. 

Later, she would watch Yue and her masters display their skills. Northern theatrics were fascinating, even to a born and bred southerner like her. But Katara’s attention was fixed solely on the girl at the center of the formation, her hair glowing a moonlight white.

*****

The next morning, Yue was waiting for her in the palace courtyard, waving a hand as Katara jogged over to her.

“I’ve never trained with another girl before.”

“Never?” Katara asked, although she already knew why.

“In healing, yes. But never at anything else. With me being the Avatar, they had to make an exception.”

The thought still disturbed her as much as it did when she’d first learned about it. Katara couldn’t imagine being stuck inside healing huts for the rest of her life. After the many times she had heard Master Hama, and on occasion her own Gran Gran, air out scathing opinions about the situation in the north, Katara grew to resent the unfairness of it all. Though she wasn’t inclined to air out frustrations of any kind when Yue was standing only a few feet away from her.

“It’s the reason it took them longer to find me,” explained Yue. “It wasn’t until after they went through all of Master Pakku’s students my age that they thought to look for the avatar in the healing huts.”

Frowning, she opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when Yue started to _move_.

She was as fluid as any master waterbender: hands floating in graceful arcs, shoulders relaxed, lean muscle moving with no undue resistance, smoothly shifting her weight off of one leg to the other. Streams of water from the fountain were at her beck and call.

Katara was staring again, she realized. She shook out of it (physically and mentally) and began to mimic Yue, the northern forms only a touch different from what she was used to. They spent the better part of the next few hours exchanging techniques and observing each other, learning from one another, Yue lending a more delicate flair and Katara showing her how directness can be a tool.

She didn’t notice the small crowd that began to gather around them, taken as she was by Yue, until Sokka yelled her name out in a cheer. She turned sharply to her brother, finding him with a group of unimpressed young northern warriors. He stood out amongst them as he pumped his fists and said _that’s my sister!_ to anyone who stood close. Katara’s would-be-glare melted into a smile. She couldn’t even be annoyed at him.

Another boy stuck out like a sore thumb, The Fire Nation prince who Sokka had buddied up with last evening during the feast. He was wrapped in fur-lined robes of red and black, pale face made even paler by the cold and the white surrounding him. He was standing beside her brother who had an arm hanging loose on his shoulders and the prince’s expression was suspended between looking like he wanted to squirm away from the casual contact or he’d much rather never leave.

Yue sidled up beside her. “Your brother is very supportive.”

“He’s a pain half the time, though,” was Katara’s default reply. “But yeah, he can be _vexingly_ supportive if he wanted to.”

Yue let out a giggle and Katara’s eyes almost went wide, not expecting it at all, but her heart swelled triumphantly. _I made her laugh_.

Later, in the quiet early evening as Yue led her through her favorite spots in the city, Katara would coax a peal of laughter out of her after a clever remark about Master Pakku’s ridiculous facial hair. She resolved to make a habit out of it while she still could.

*****

The past several days had been blissful. Sure, it hadn’t been all good. That Master Pakku always gave them a wide berth whenever Katara and Yue trained together though not without twisting that stupid face of his derisively, and her brother jumped at every chance to embarrass her in front of Yue—not that he’d succeeded much, but it was annoying nonetheless (he eventually stopped after she’d threatened him to tell the Fire Nation princeling just about the most mortifying story about him). But those were inconsequential compared to how wonderful the rest of it had been.

The city was big enough that there was always something new to find each day, and she had yet to run out of things to learn about Yue.

When Yue brought her to the Spirit Oasis, and what had first felt light and enchanting turned profound and inexorable.

Yue was explaining to her about the place as they made their way inside: its history, what it held, how special it was. Katara was only half listening.

She had always had an affinity for the ocean—beautiful, wrathful, and ever-changing—and she imagined that the ocean loved her back. And the Moon… Katara revered the moon even when before she’d learned what reverence meant. 

Here, in this tiny patch of growing things thriving impossibly in this icy desolation, she peered down at the creatures swirling in circles in the pond. She felt as if she was made untamed, her veins a thousand rivers, the sensation drawing a small shiver through her body. Yue noticed and took her hand. She linked their fingers and the world righted itself.

“This is where Tui made a promise to my mother.”

They sprawled on the grass as Yue told her two stories—the first one she had heard before, but not the other. Katara was grateful for Yue telling her, and she made it show by hanging on to every word. Long after Yue had finished, neither of them made a move to leave their spots. They lay beside each other, though not touching, and let the words float and sink in. The air was warmer in the oasis and it was quiet but for the flowing of water and the muted thrumming from the girl beside her.

There was a murmur of strength in Yue, unassuming and waiting, lying just below the surface, and Katara had the lingering thought that not everyone could sense it: either she was special because she could or Yue simply trusted her. She knew that to be able to witness it fully unravel would be a blessing—or a condemnation, if you were the type of person to enrage the moon-blessed Avatar. But it wasn’t just the Avatar’s might, was it? It wasn’t just the Moon’s blessing either. Katara believed only a force of nature could house such a deep well of power inside of them.

Master Hama had once told her that bending was only as strong as the person who possessed that gift.

She propped herself up on her elbow to look at Yue, her voice barely above a whisper for fear of disturbing the bone-seeping _rightness_ of this hallowed place. “What’s it like?”

Yue raised her eyebrows at Katara quizzically.

“Holding that much power. It’s like I can hear it. Here—” Katara softly brushed the pads of her fingers against Yue’s knuckles. “May I?”

At the other girl’s small nod, she took her hand and lifted it up between them; she aligned their fingers, made their palms touch. She could feel Yue’s hidden power more potently like this, no longer just a faint whisper but a pulsing energy calling to Katara’s own, which answered with its own call. “You feel that?”

Yue smiled at her almost reverently.

“I don’t know how to describe it. I have nothing to compare it with,” Yue said after a while, answering her previous question. “It’s been like this for as long as I can remember, it’s all I’ve ever known. Before— when I was younger, I didn’t think of it as mine. It was Tui’s blessing, but I have no claim to it.”

“But you know better now, right?”

Yue frowned slightly. Katara wanted nothing more than to reach out with her free hand to smoothen it back. “I suppose. I mean, I didn’t know I was the Avatar then, and I do now. But I’m not… I don’t know...”

She placed Yue’s hand back on the grass but didn’t let go. “What is it?”

“I’m not really sure I deserve any of this. Being the Avatar, having Tui’s blessing.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you deserve everything. You’re… well, _you_.”

Yue softly shook her head. “You weren’t here when they found out I was the Avatar. Master Pakku had to be so patient with me. It didn’t come naturally.”

Yue’s voice was more timid than she’d ever heard it before in the few days she’d spent with the girl. Yet the look on her pale blue eyes—solid ice, impenetrable glacier—silently dared Katara to pity her. Her skin prickled pleasantly at being subjected to it, but the feeling faded quickly when her tidal anger took over—anger over their sister tribe, their archaic ways. Unknowingly or not, they’d made Yue feel _less_. It was all she could do not to storm into the home of every master, every sage, and even Yue’s own father if she needed to, just to let them have a piece of her mind.

Was this why she so desperately wanted to go outside of her tribe? Because the world was imperfect and perhaps she could help make it less so?

No, it couldn’t be. This resolve was something newly-formed. But it was starting to blow into her sails, pushing her further outward.

As if sensing her swelling emotions, Yue reached out to her. “Katara?”

“We should travel together,” she blurted.

“…What?”

“Previous avatars made the journey across the nations, right?”

Katara sat up with purpose rapidly turning solid in her mind. Yue followed, a confused look on her face. It was enough to make Katara pull herself back a little. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I mean it. It was just an idea—”

“No, _no_ , it’s not that. I would love to travel with you.” Yue smiled but it melted off her face like thin ice caps, dripping into dismay. “But they won’t allow me to leave the city yet. They don’t think I’m ready. I haven’t mastered the other elements. After that, maybe.”

That would likely take some time. Too long.

“But you’ve already mastered waterbending. You’ll have to find an earthbending master, anyway. You can’t do that here,” she reasoned

_You’re the Avatar_ , she nearly said, _it’s not for them to decide where you wish to go._

Yue shrugged with one shoulder. “The Earth Sages will come to me, Father and the Northern Sages made certain of it. I’m sorry, Katara.”

Katara, whose nature and upbringing made her refuse to be cowed by anything, wasn’t about to give up so easily. A thought came to her, danger and mischief written all over it. It wasn’t like Katara to rebel, but then it also wasn’t like her to allow someone like Yue to be rooted to this place like a flower preserved in ice.

(Days later, unbeknownst to her father and his crew, Katara snuck the avatar inside their ship—)

* * *

**Moon**

…

Her home was a glacial edifice and she looked like she fit right in, with her white hair and her delicate bearing and her perfectly molded self. Perfect for the duty that was her birthright. She kept quiet and stayed prim, and everyone was pleased enough to not bother with her.

That was before they found out she was the Avatar.

An Avatar could never stay prim, or docile, or passive—Kyoshi did not bring justice with perfect manners and etiquette, Roku did not end the threat of Sozin with geniality, and Aang certainly didn’t mend the world’s scars by acquiring a commendable taste for northern finery.

She was no longer just a princess. She was as much the world’s as she was her tribe’s. But when you were told your whole life that you had to be one thing, a dutiful princess and a dutiful wife when the time came, then be told again that you should forsake that set path for another… it was as if someone had shifted the icy floor beneath her feet.

Her father promptly ended her betrothal to the boy he had chosen for her—a change she had no qualms about—because there was much more an Avatar ought to do than be a future chief’s wife. She no longer spent most of her days inside the palace, because bending training took up most of her time. Yue could tell Master Pakku was not pleased with the arrangement but he kept to his duty as a Master waterbender. The Avatar must be trained.

She was a ship unanchored and drifting to whichever direction the currents took her. It had always been like that for her, only now she was the Avatar, and being the Avatar was nowhere the same as being a princess.

Though sometimes it felt like those two things were not so different.

*****

Yue always found refuge in the Spirit Oasis, all the more so now than before. Training wasn’t going as well as everyone had hoped, and Master Pakku was not subtle about his disappointment with Yue’s skill, or a lack of it.

She sighed, sinking down to the crisp grass and closing her eyes. To her side, Tui and La swam in a constant circle, and being near them was enough to drain away the weariness from her day. 

Before Yue was born, the healers had known that her mother won’t survive giving birth to her. The story went this way: Yue’s mother died in childbirth, and Yue herself was weak and dying when she came to the world. Her father, desperate and grieving, brought her to the Spirit Oasis and implored the spirits to let his daughter live. Tui granted his prayer, and Yue was forever marked.

That was not what truly happened, at least not what Yue grew up hearing.

What her father told her was this: Yue’s mother knew long before she gave birth to her that she wasn’t long for this world, but she wanted more than anything for the child growing inside of her to be shielded away from any danger knowing she would not be around. She went to the Oasis one night, her belly swollen with life, to pray to the spirits. First, she asked them to spare her and keep her alive for long enough to see her child grow, but a voice—deep and rumbling, _inhuman_ , speaking to her not through her ears but as an echoing within the chambers of her mind—told her about the tides of life and that even though they could, it was not their place to control it the same way they did the ocean. Her mother had expected this and took in La’s words with resigned acceptance. She then asked the spirits to look after her child, and this time it was Tui who shined upon her. The Moon spirit blessed the child to give the woman comfort before her death.

Tui had blessed her not because she was weak but because of her mother’s last wish. She reminded herself of this over and over and over again while she lay there in her sanctuary.

It was a small comfort, dwarfed by a well-worn faceless grief for the mother she never knew and her persistent self-doubt, but it was comforting all the same.

*****

The moon was nowhere in sight that night. A shy goddess, the moon was: appearing in phases, hiding behind clouds, only periodically allowing mortals to witness her full, brilliant self. But no one resented the moon for it. Yue certainly did not.

Yue looked up at the sky, leaning against the railing of the balcony attached to her bedroom. She didn’t have to see the moon to know that she was powerful, that she loved her people, and that the moon’s love was as fierce as the sun’s and as deep as the ocean’s. Yue could feel that love in her every breath, but she felt it even stronger now after the events of the day.

Earlier, she had finally impressed her masters and made progress with her bending. For the very first time since she was proclaimed as the Avatar, they took her seriously and looked at her not as a child they were obligated to teach but a worthy student. She had held back tears of utter relief the entire day but now they flow freely. She’d pushed herself so hard and finally she had something to show for it.

And she would get better. She felt in her bones, in the blood rushing through her. She had to. It was her duty. The world needed their Avatar. Deep inside she knew she was not cut out for all of it and she had no bravado to hide behind, but like water she would flow and let the powers that be, in both the physical and spiritual, guide her to where she should be.

All she had to do was pretend like she was deserving of it.

*****

Yue tried really hard to tell her father that there really was no need for any celebration of any kind—it wasn’t the same as holding feasts in her honor during her birthdays for it was part of tradition; she’d been accustomed to those her whole life and they were often a pleasant affair. But to invite visitors from other nations only because Yue finally mastered waterbending?

“It seems a little ostentatious, Father.”

Father scraped the flesh from the large fish on his plate. “Nonsense, my dear. You deserve it.”

“I just don’t think it’s necessary. Achieving this…milestone is reward enough.” She tried again.

“But the world must know that the Avatar is doing well in her training. And besides, the Earth Sages insisted on sending a representative of theirs to ascertain your progress before their chosen earthbending master comes here to start your training. What’s a better way to accept such an important guest but through a grand feast?” He gave her a firm yet patient look, one that told her that the matter had been decided and there was nothing she could do or say to convince him otherwise.

Yue nodded solemnly and stared back down at her food. She knew the council of northern sages and waterbending masters were pressuring her father, that some of the decisions he had made regarding Yue’s Avatarhood did not entirely come from him. But still, she wished he would grant her at least the slightest bit of autonomy.

Then again, Yue was a young Avatar. Perhaps after she established herself…

But how could she do that—how could she do anything, really—when she was stuck waiting for the little council of sages and masters meant to serve the Avatar to decide that maybe, just maybe, Yue deserved to have a say in her life, in figuring out for herself what kind of Avatar she wanted to be. They dictated almost everything: the kind of company she was allowed to keep, who trained her, the kind of training she got…

She ended that trail of thought, a sudden guilt gnawing at her. It was unbecoming of an avatar—of a princess—to think of such ungrateful things.

In the days prior to the celebratory feast and the arrival of their foreign guests, the excited chaos of the palace had bled out into the city. The whole thing made her uncomfortable so Yue distracted herself by training on her own or hiding out in the Spirit Oasis. When the day came, she knew she’d be expected to greet each of the guest important enough to be allowed an audience with the Avatar. She avoided that unpleasant prospect for as long as she could by taking a gondola ride across the city, passing through the canals that spread along Agna Qel’a like veins. It would buy her some precious minutes to take a deep breath before a tedious day. She was aware that she was acting indolent, but thinking about all the embellished words and praise about to be laid at her feet, and knowing what she did—that she wasn’t the same Avatar that they had built up in their minds to be—made her almost physically sick.

They reached the center of the city when something pulled at her, the same sensation she would get when she left something behind but could not for the life of her remember what it was, but she knew she _needed_ it. She was about to brush it off as nerves when another gondola came near.

Something fell into place. Like… like standing on the precipice and it was freeing just to be there, looking at the horizon.

The girl—eyes wide, braid swaying about in the gentle breeze—was staring at her like she knew exactly what Yue was feeling, because she felt it too.

Yue did not look back after they crossed paths, but she could feel the other girl’s gaze on the back of her head until Yue’s gondola made a turn, the awareness of it sending strange ripples through her.

*****

“I thank each of you for being here with us tonight,” her father spoke to the hall. Instead of the sea of blues and similar shades, an assortment of colors signifying different nations and affiliations filled the place. Yue was granted a great view of it from where she stood on the dais. “We celebrate Avatar Yue and her most recent achievement. Under the watchful eye of our very own Master Pakku, she has finally mastered her waterbending and will then begin training the next element in the cycle. Soon, the era of Avatar Yue shall begin in earnest.”

A wave of applause. Her father, beaming with pride, looked at her expectantly.

“Thank you, Father,” she said in a practiced cadence. “May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits continue to bless our tribe and our sisters and brothers in the South. And to our guests, may the solidarity among our nations grow stronger in the years to come.”

Yue was met with a stronger bout of cheers from their guests. She sank back down and pinned a gracious smile to her face.

After that, she busied herself with feigning interest to whatever her father and the sages had to say to her, but only one thought churned in her mind: _don’t look at her, don’t look at her, don’t look at her_.

Yue briefly caught sight of the girl again, who sat with the other visitors from their sister tribe, and she immediately looked away despite the protesting feeling in her chest.

She had no idea what was so special about this person that Yue was finding it so hard to resist herself from gazing at her. The girl looked beautiful, but surely it wasn’t simply that. Yue knew that attraction was a fleeting thing and she’d never had trouble tearing her eyes away from a lovely face before to avoid seeming rude or draw attention.

It did not take long for her to give in, though.

The girl was already looking at her, the light from stone seal-oil lamps on her face, and Yue was entrapped. She wasn’t looking at Yue with the blind approbation like those from strangers who idolized the Avatar nor was she looking with the critical eye of the skeptical and the envious that reminded her too much of Master Pakku. Even from across the banquet hall she could discern her tender curiosity, the nonintrusive fascination—Yue was both baffled and dazzled by it.

Under the guise of courtesy and obligation to their guests, Yue went up to speak and introduce herself to her. Her name was Katara. She was the daughter of one of the village chiefs from the south. She was the best waterbender in her tribe but apparently her brother exaggerates so the only course of action to resolve this question of accuracy was to train with her, for Yue to see the truth for herself. A bright, new thing to look forward to.

And it was a different kind of thrill performing in the center of the hall, with her at the forefront and her masters standing back for once, knowing that Katara was amongst the crowd watching her.

*****

The way Katara looked at her was always shifting. When they trained together, it rippled between impressed and determined, then her gaze would grow careful and measured whenever Yue demonstrated some of the northern forms foreign to her. Katara unfailingly learned each one and soon after, she managed to incorporate some of them to her own bending style. It was the same with Yue as Katara showed her how to be more deliberate and forward while still maintaining the harmonious balance essential in bending their element.

Katara level of skill was beyond impressive, yet she was never boastful. She clearly took pride in her bending, but she was nothing like Yue’s previous fellow students who would always puff their chest more and more each time they managed to outdo her. That hadn’t done her self-confidence any favors. But training with Katara was anything but discouraging: she challenged Yue in the most pleasant way, made her want to grow better just for the sake of it. And if successfully imitating one of Katara’s bending tricks made the other girl beam at her so bright it almost hurt to look at, then Yue would gladly do so again and again.

They didn’t always train, though. Yue gave her a tour around the city on foot after their first training session, a leisurely ride on a gondola the day after. Once, while taking a break, they watched where the nonbenders trained.

They stood at the edge of the training grounds and observed quietly, trying and failing to keep anyone’s attention from them. Remaining inconspicuous was never a trait she had—what with her hair being a glaring announcement of her presence. But no one bothered them. Hahn was being a little more boisterous and peacocky once he noticed her, but she was used to that and he didn’t overstep her boundaries by walking over to them.

“They’re all boys,” Katara said under her breath, an intense dislike colored the way she said it that nearly made Yue laugh. She’d never heard another girl say the word _boys_ before as if it were an insult.

“Not really.” She pointed her finger to one corner where a girl in black and red robes threw knives at dummies, never missing the target.

“Yes, but she’s obviously not from here.”

“Are girls allowed to carry weapons in the south?” asked Yue. She had been holding out for a chance to ask her that question—or rather, she’d been waiting for the right time to ask Katara everything that intrigued Yue about their sister tribe. She was aware that women were allowed to learn martial waterbending there, but she’d learned that from her tutors and the occasional derisive commentaries from the northern masters, Master Pakku being particularly against the idea. To hear about it from Katara was entirely different.

“They could if they wanted to. Knowing how to defend yourself is something we value in the South Pole,” answered Katara with a shrug. “But only a very few women become warriors, though. It’s not the same as the Fire Nation where roughly half of their soldiers are women, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. But it’s definitely better at home than it is here. At least we’re taught all facets of waterbending, not just healing. The master waterbender in our village is a woman, actually. Master Hama. You’d love her, I think. She can be grumpy sometimes but that’s just because she’s old. But she’s the _best_. Definitely better than Pakku.”

Yue was raptly and longingly listening as Katara told her about the small waterbending school in her village and the other waterbenders she was friends with, then Katara was cut off by her brother tackling her in a hug.

“Get off of me, you brute.”

Sokka stepped back, a wide grin on his face “Whatcha doing here, Katara? This isn’t exactly an ideal location to take the Avatar on a d—”

Katara clamped a mittened hand over Sokka’s mouth. “Finish that thought and I will freeze your mouth so you won’t feel your tongue for weeks.”

“Mmmph.”

“Thought so.” Katara let go of him.

“Gee I was just trying to help out. What, you don’t want my advice?”

“No,” replied Katara flatly. “Also, if you’re going to force your _wisdom_ on my very uninterested ears, be tactful about it.”

“Right, tactful. Got it. Hey, Yue. I mean,” Sokka did a clumsy and theatrical bow in front of her, “greetings, Your Avatarness.”

She giggled. “Hello, Sokka. Are you here to train?”

“Me? I don’t need any of that beginner stuff. I’m the best warrior in the south. You can ask Katara.”

“My brother exaggerates, Your Avatarness.” Katara spoke with fake solemnity, humor alight in her eyes.

Yue fought against her bubbling laughter. “So, what he said wasn’t at all true?”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that, Avatar Yue.” Katara gestured towards the training grounds. “Go on, Sokka. Show the Avatar how good of a warrior you are.”

“As much as I would love to take that bait, I have prior arrangements.” He gave each of them a nod. “I’ll see you both when I see you.” With a flourish, he walked off with haste to where the girl with the knives was still assaulting helpless target dummies, though this time the girl had an audience. Prince Zuko—who Yue had spoken to briefly at the banquet—raised a hand at Sokka in greeting as the other boy approached him.

“Those two certainly have taken a shine to each other.”

Katara smirked. “I’d say.”

*****

When she and Katara went their separate ways after their visit to the Spirit Oasis, Yue made straight for her bedchambers. Her heart raced the entire way, still did even when she reached her room and leaned against her door after shutting it closed. She let out an unsteady breath and pushed back her sudden ridiculous urge to run laps around the courtyard.

She could not believe she agreed to Katara’s honestly outrageous and definitely impermissible idea. It had the makings of a potentially ill-conceived plan; it went against many of the rules Yue had been raised to follow. How come the thought of it made her giddier than she’d ever felt in her life?

But something had shifted inside the Oasis that night, when she and Katara had stood over the pond to marvel at Tui and La’s eternal dance together, hands entwined to keep each other steady. Either by instinct or something else she had no words for, she knew Katara felt it too—the same way she also knew back when they first laid eyes on each other that Katara understood, because this was a shared thing between them.

She felt less alone, emboldened, eager for whatever came next.

It seemed what was next was her emancipation.

It was a strange notion—Yue _should_ find it strange; by all appearances, she was no prisoner. She had all the luxury that being a princess could offer. Though if she were to be truly honest with herself, she never felt free, not really, not the same way an Avatar should be. She’d read extensively about many previous Avatars. Kyoshi who had banished humanity’s shadows with a firm hand, Roku who had prevented a war before it began, and Aang who had been the balm that the world needed after peace had very nearly been extinguished. Yue was the bearer of that legacy now.

_What’s it like?_ Katara had asked her. _Holding that much power._

She told her that she had nothing to compare her experience with, which wasn’t a lie. She knew about being blessed by the moon and being the Avatar, but she wasn’t intrinsically aware of those things or how different it would feel if she were just an ordinary girl.

But that hadn’t been her first thought when Katara asked; she had no idea what being the Moon-blessed Avatar was supposed to mean for her, if she was even worthy of it at all. The sages and the masters never really spoke of anything besides the vague ideals of Avatarhood: bring balance to the world, maintain the peace, become the bridge between spirits and humans.

Katara was probably right, she _did_ know better. She now knew that she wouldn’t truly understand what it was to be an Avatar that the world needed if she let other people dictate what that was, if she didn’t even get to _see_ the world beyond the ice and snow of her home. 

_Previous avatars have gone across the nations before, haven’t they?_

Her past lives would have the wisdom of countless lifetimes to impart to her but she never really felt their presence before, but if this ever-growing determined courage inside of her—trampling down her doubts and fears that had for so long blinded her from this epiphany—was their way of telling Yue that she was on the right path, then who was she to ignore their call?

*****

Her bedchambers were spacious and littered with trinkets and ornaments, gifts for the Avatar from various corners of all the nations, in varying places of honor arranged according to what value her attendants placed on them. In the end, her life inside this pristine space she had called her own for the past fifteen years boiled down to a handful of things that fit inside a single sealskin bag Katara had lent her.

There were her clothes, the most practical that she owned, the headpiece carved with the water tribe symbol that had been her mother’s and now hers, a thin bracelet of carved Walrus ivory that Katara gave her, a pouch of money that they might need if they journeyed on land, and a few other essentials.

The bag now lay on her bed beside her waterskin. She’d only ever used the latter when Master Pakku trained her to fight under conditions where water sources were limited or completely absent.

A knock came on the door. Then, her father’s voice: “Yue?”

“Yes, Father?” Yue said, thankful that her voice remained steady. She looked at the items on her bed then back at the door where Father stood just on the other side.

“Do you have a moment? I wish to speak to you about something.”

She didn’t have time to concoct a suitable lie.

“Of course, Father.”

She hastily shoved the bag and the waterskin into the blankets and went to open the door to receive her father. He stepped inside, nothing at all unusual in his expression and his gentle smile. It was simply one of those occasions where he called on Yue to talk about humdrum matters. Yue’s gut twisted.

Father walked towards her bed but before she could form words or do anything other than reach out fruitlessly to try stopping him, he’d already sat himself down. The fur sheets failed to cover the shape of the bag.

One of his hands landed on top of it. Mild confusion shattered to realization on Father’s eyes as he set aside the furs.

Neither of them said anything for the longest stretch of time. Father kept on staring at the packed travelling bag and the waterskin beside it, as if the objects were a conundrum that he couldn’t assign a place to in his reality. At length, he raised his head back to look at her.

“What is all this?” The answer was obvious, but denial was a disbelieving man’s last resort.

Yue took a stilling breath.

“I’m going away, Father.”

Instead of anger, hurt first registered in her father’s eyes.

“…and you were going to leave without telling me?”

She’d expected him to rage at her, to demand the source of this ludicrousness. She’d expected him to storm out and lock the door shut, bar every exit in the palace. Perhaps they didn’t know each other as well as they had thought: Father and daughter, constantly in each other’s orbit, living under the same roof for the entirety of Yue’s life, but neither of them even bothered to do anything about the ravine between them.

Yue slowly sat by his side and took his wrinkled hand. “I was afraid you were going to stop me… but I have to do this, Father. I, I just know it. I feel something calling to me. I met someone who’s going to help me… find whatever it is that I need to find. I’ll seek an earthbending teacher, see the world I’m meant to protect.” Father didn’t say a word, just stared at Yue’s smaller hand clasping his. “I _am_ sorry for not telling you, but– but even if you try preventing me from leaving now, I will never stop trying again. I’m sorry I can’t only be your daughter.”

“No, Yue. Spirits, don’t ever say that. I don’t want…” It took a long moment for Father to gather his words again. He turned over his hand and carefully moved the other so he was holding Yue’s hand with both of his. He said, “Duty is a consequence of our bloodline, but your mother made me swear to never let your duties as my daughter devour you and leave only a shell of a person. Along the way, I realize now that I’ve forgotten about that promise.”

Her hand that wasn’t held by her father trembled. It had truly felt like ages since the last time he’d spoken about Mother, yet the grief in Father’s voice was still a chasm left unfilled.

“Ever since we found out you’re the Avatar, I knew this moment would come. But the council are hesitant to relinquish their role in your Avatarhood—they want the tribe to be your priority. It is folly to think the Avatar is ours to own, but I allowed the council their decisions because I didn’t want to have to let you go.”

“Father…”

He squared his shoulders as if he were about to face a great beast in the tundra, a true hunter in his bones. “All the great warriors and chiefs before me knew when to admit weakness and did their best to mend it. Now, tell me how you were planning on leaving so I may help you do it.”

(She met with Katara the next morning, a small note signed by Father resting inside her pocket. Heart and mind abuzz, Yue followed her friend as she led the way—)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to clarify: azula, yue, and katara are the same age in this au for no other reason than bc i wanted them to be born on the same year for the destined-to-save-the-world-together implications. that would make the three of them 15 for the rest of this fic.
> 
> EDIT: i rearranged azula and katara's parts (katara's came first in before i edited it) after i realized katara and yue's storylines would flow a lot smoothly if they're read back to back.


	2. at sea

The ship’s crew was busy unfurling the sails when she and Yue climbed aboard.

Yue was dressed in the most casual clothes she owned—a simple tunic with a plain blue parka worn over it, forsaking her usual adorned braids so her hair could be wrapped expertly with some thin cloth, keeping her distinguishable white hair out of sight—and was carrying Katara’s sealskin travelling pack on one hand and her own on the other. To anyone else, she looked like an ordinary servant girl sent to help one of the visitors, with her head down and her hood pulled on to obscure her face, dutifully following in Katara’s wake. Katara didn’t have to wonder why a princess like her would be so good at feigning subservience, but she swallowed that bitter thought down. She was already helping Yue leave the north. She was going to regret leaving Agna Qel’a without having yet seen all the city had to offer, but she definitely wouldn’t miss _that_ part.

Almost all the foreign visitors were leaving at the same time which meant the docks were busy and cramped with people. No one spared them more than a passing glance, which made things easier. Once they were on the ship, they skirted through the busy men and women on the deck and finally descended the staircase to where Katara’s cabin was.

She spotted her brother standing outside the door to his own cabin—with three other people standing behind him.

Katara recognized Prince Zuko first, looking out of place in his all-black clothes, and fought really hard not to let her jaw drop. Sokka seemed to be struggling with the same problem as his eyes flitted to Yue, whose hood had fallen off.

She was the first one to disturb the shocked silence. “Inside, now.”

She stomped forward and grabbed Sokka by the arm, pushing the door to his cabin open and dragging him inside. Yue followed and, after Katara tossed them a warning glare, the others did too. Katara closed the door carefully and secured the lock before facing her brother.

****

“Katara, what are you thinking! Are you trying to incite a diplomatic incident?”

She gaped at him and Prince Zuko. “And you’re _not_?”

“Sokka didn’t abduct us,” said the prince.

“Are you trying to say I abducted Yue?”

“Let me handle this,” Sokka said to the prince before turning to her again. “What exactly are you trying to do here?”

Yue stepped up beside her. “I have express permission from my father to go with Katara so there’s nothing to worry about. My being here won’t cause any conflict between our tribes.”

Katara hadn’t been aware of that bit of information, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“Okay, enough about us. Why have you brought the crown prince of the Fire Nation and—” she glanced at the two girls behind them, “and two others with you?”

“We’re, uh, going to go on an adventure?” Sokka managed to squeak out.

Prince Zuko sighed. “We’re trying to find my sister. Sokka is just trying to help us,” he explained.

His sister... That could only mean the Fire Princess. The last time she’d heard anything about the princess was when the news reached the south about her dying at sea a few years ago in a tragic accident. Her frown must have made her confusion clear.

“My sister’s alive, she’s just hiding. I read it on my uncle’s journal.” Zuko held up a small and well-worn book in his hand. “This is one of the possessions I inherited from him. He’s… gone now.”

“Prince Iroh is dead?” Yue let out a small gasp.

“Murdered,” Prince Zuko said, his jaw tensing. “No one else but the people in the palace knows. Father is trying to keep it a secret from everyone for now. He’s probably fabricating some story as we speak.”

The room grew warmer all of a sudden. It came like a shock in her system rather than a comfort, like a furnace had suddenly appeared inside the room out of nowhere. Sokka placed a hand on the fuming prince’s shoulder and the temperature gradually returned to normal.

“I’m not sure I completely understand yet,” Katara admitted. “Why would your sister be hiding? And why was your uncle killed? What does all of this have to do with my brother sneaking you inside our ship?”

Another sigh, this time coming from the taller one of the Fire Nation girls. “What Zuko is trying to explain is that he read on his uncle’s journal about his sister being alive and where she might be hiding. Prince Iroh was assassinated by Fire Lord Ozai, who is also the one who attempted to have Princess Azula killed.”

“ _Mai_ ,” the other girl hissed, “we’re not supposed to talk about the last part.”

The girl—Mai—rolled her eyes. “No one’s going to execute us for treason inside a Water Tribe ship, Ty Lee. No reason to be subtle about our Fire Lord being a murderer.”

“Why would the Fire Lord…” Yue’s eyes were on Prince Zuko. She almost looked fragile then, but her grip on Katara’s hand was firm.

“My father is not the benevolent Fire Lord he’s led the world to believe he is,” said Zuko. There was a weariness in his boyish voice that made him seem years older. Katara’s eyes flickered over to her brother. He was looking at Prince Zuko, a sadness in his face that Katara rarely saw.

She was going to have to help her brother help his friend, wasn’t she? 

“So what does your uncle’s journal say about your sister’s whereabouts?” she asked Prince Zuko.

A look of gratitude flickered over the prince’s face. It was gone after a blink, but it didn’t escape her notice. After they all sat on Sokka’s bed, Prince Zuko flipped through the little journal.

“Uncle had been trying to track down my sister for a while but decided to wait for the right time to find her to avoid suspicion. But then he fell ill, and he knew the sickness was due to poison. Before he died, he arranged for me to have his journal and wrote a few instructions. He ripped out a lot of the pages from the original but…” Zuko paused on one page with a map of the Four Nations. He pointed to a small dot near the southwest part of the Earth Kingdom, encircled in glaring red ink. There was another mark near the Fire Islands but Zuko was focusing on this one.

“One of my sister’s tutors was on the same ship that sunk while on its way here. Uncle was convinced she’s still with Azula. She has distant relatives here on this island and it's relatively isolated. It’s one of the places Uncle thinks they’re hiding in.”

Katara peered closer at the map. “Wait, I know that place. That’s Kyoshi Island. Our tribe trades with the people there sometimes.”

Zuko and Sokka nodded at the same time. Katara thought that, if she were to hide from a filicidal Fire Lord, Kyoshi Island was an ideal hiding place.

“Dad told me the other day that we’re going to have to make a stop there to restock our supplies,” explained Sokka. “That’s when I told Zuko and, y’know, we just thought it was a perfect opportunity. It would be harder for them to find a way to go there once they’re back in their palace.”

Katara looked over to Yue, who glanced at her the same time she did, and after looking at each other for a moment they both smiled.

“We’re coming with you to Kyoshi Island,” Katara announced to the room.

“You are?”

“Yue is looking for an earthbending teacher. Kyoshi Island is still technically Earth Kingdom, even though it’s physically separate from the mainland. It’s a good place to start.”

“And it’s Avatar Kyoshi’s home,” Yue added. “Maybe going there can help me connect with one of my past lives. I was told there was a shrine dedicated to her in her home village.”

One of the Fire Nation girls squealed. “This is going to be so _fun_! Like a field trip!”

Katara made to stand. “Don’t get excited yet, we still have to make sure no one—”

A knock on the door, followed by her mom’s voice. “Sokka dear, is your sister with you?”

“—finds out you’re here,” she finished in a low murmur. The others froze, exchanging panicked looks except for Mai, who was impressively unbothered by the precarious position they all found themselves in.

“Just a minute, Mom,” she called out when Sokka turned a worrying shade of gray. “We’re just… playing Pai Sho.”

Silence, and then a sonorous chuckle. “You two have fun, then. We’re setting off soon. Don't forget to eat.”

Katara waited for the soft footfalls from outside the door to fade before sighing in relief. Sokka still looked like the blood fled from his face. “Sokka, if you want this to work, you’re going to have to try better than shut down and almost faint whenever someone so much as knocks on your door.”

“Okay, first of all, I wasn’t about to faint,” said Sokka, clearly offended. “Second, I’m telling Dad and Mom about this so there’s no need for us to hide them away for long.”

“You are definitely not going to do that. No one, and I mean _no one_ , must know about your…extra passengers,” she said pointedly. “Dad will freak out and he’ll drop your friends off in the Fire Nation as soon as he could… Did anyone see them board the ship?”

“Not a living soul,” said Mai, voice still in that unnerving monotone. Katara wasn’t about to analyze what she implied by that. She’d rather not know.

“Good. Then all of you should stay here and keep quiet. We’re well away from the crew’s cabins and our parents stay in the captain’s quarters abovedeck.”

“How are we going to eat?” Ty Lee asked her.

“Don’t worry about that. We can sneak in as much food as you need. Sokka did it all the time on the way here so it won’t be much of a surprise to the cooks.” She thought for a second, then said, “My cabin is the one next to Sokka’s. All the rest down the corridor are unoccupied so this is the safest place for you to hide. Dad will probably give Yue a cabin of her own so maybe one of the girls can stay with her and the other with—”

“Wait a second Katara, Dad knows you brought Avatar Yue with you?”

“I’m going to tell him since, unlike your guests, Yue got permission.” She shrugged with one shoulder. Yue confirmed with a nod. She wasn’t actually sure if that was true—they didn't have the chance to really talk since meeting up near the port—but Yue wouldn’t lie about something like that. Besides, she _was_ planning on telling Dad about it. Unlike Sokka’s case, he couldn’t exactly say no to a request from the Avatar. Most likely he’d send word to the north about Yue being here but he wouldn’t turn the ship back if Yue asked him not to.

Katara stood and clapped her hands. “That’s settled then. Once we get far enough away from the city, I’ll take Yue to Dad and Mom’s quarters to tell them so we can have that extra cabin. But first,” she pulled her brother to his feet and pushed him towards the door, “Sokka will graciously bring us some food to eat, aren’t you Sokka?”

“I don’t—”

She shoved him outside and shut the door to his face. Served him right.

*****

Ty Lee had been in the middle of regaling them all sorts of stories and anecdotes about the missing princess when Katara’s brother returned. He was balancing a tray with five steaming bowls, a pack of what looked like fire flakes tucked in his arm. Yue took the tray before poor Sokka tripped over.

Sokka tossed the bag of fire flakes to Prince Zuko. “Here, asshole. You’re lucky some of the crew has a taste for this stuff.”

Zuko gave him a closed-mouthed smile.

Yue looked down at the selection Sokka had brought for them. There were two bowls of stewed sea prunes, the rest were spiced seaweed noodles that were probably for the Fire Nationals. She handed each of the others their meal before sitting on the floor beside Katara, who smiled at her gratefully.

Everyone ate in silence for a while. They were all paired off, it seemed: Mai and Ty Lee were perched on the edge of the bed, Sokka and Prince Zuko on the floor across Yue and Katara. An odd little group, the six of them.

“So, how did you manage bringing these here,” Katara asked Sokka, gesturing to her bowl of stew with her spoon.

“No thanks to you. I only had to listen to the cooks make fun of me when I asked for extra servings after I was done eating.”

“It was your idea to bring three people without devising a proper plan. I thought you were good with that stuff?”

Sokka huffed. “When are you going to tell Dad about your Avatar situation so I can kick you out of my cabin?”

“I’m still eating. Be grateful that I'm even helping you.”

When she was finished with her food, Katara leaned close to her. “I didn’t know you asked your father for permission,” she whispered. There was no accusation in her tone, which made Yue tremendously relieved.

“I told him last night. He saw my bag when he came to my room to talk.”

“Ah.” Katara nodded. “Well it could’ve ended bad but you’re here now, so.”

“I am.” Yue set aside her own half-eaten bowl and took Katara’s hand. “Thanks to you.”

She was answered with the most dazzling smile. When Katara’s eyes wandered over across the room, that smile fell. Before Yue knew what was even happening, she heard a yell being cut short and looked over. Sokka's mouth was covered in a thin sheet of ice.

“I think we should go tell Dad now,” Katara said to Yue as if nothing happened, sealing the cork of her waterskin close. She stood and offered her hand, which Yue took to pull herself back on her feet.

Yue threw a worried glance at Sokka, who was trying to claw out the ice from his mouth. Beside him, Prince Zuko was laughing behind his hand, his shoulders shaking. Ty Lee looked mildly horrified while Mai seemed mildly amused.

“Don’t you think you should…” She pointed back to Sokka.

Katara waved her hand then reached for the door. “Oh, don’t worry about him. It’ll melt eventually, or he can ask Prince Zuko to melt it off of him if he wanted to. He’s fine.”

They held each other’s hand as they walked through corridor towards the stairs leading up to the upper deck; Yue was not even sure who reached out for who. This had become a common enough thing since that first day— _early morning light, Katara in her training clothes, all grace and raw strength_ —that it no longer mattered. Instinctual, almost.

Katara paused at the bottom of the stairs.

“If your father knew you were going to leave, why did you have to sneak your way inside the ship?” Katara asked. “I’m not complaining by the way, just curious.”

“He knew the sages and the masters would protest. He said it was easier to wait for their anger to settle than to try persuading them to agree.”

“I see,” Katara said. “Smart guy.”

She laughed. Spirits, she already missed her father. When she looked up, Katara was smiling at her gently. “You’ll see him again, Yue. I’ll help you make sure of it.”

Yue squeezed her hand gratefully as they got up the stairs.

*****

It was Mom who opened the door when Katara knocked. 

“Mom, this isn’t what—”

“Avatar Yue! We weren’t aware you were onboard!” her mom exclaimed as soon as her eyes landed on Yue. She sounded as if this was a normal unannounced visit from the Avatar and not the Avatar sneaking a ride in their ship without any of them knowing—like a welcome surprise rather than a potentially politically risky scenario.

Mom’s voice was loud enough that Dad heard her from his work desk. He appeared behind her and his reaction was a lot closer to what Katara had expected from her parents. She fought the urge to blanch. She wasn’t scared of being told off by her dad, but she tried to avoid disappointing him as much as she could.

Before he could say anything though, Yue beat him to it. “I’m sorry so for the abruptness, Chief Hakoda. I can only imagine how confused and surprised you must be right now.”

Dad seemed at a loss, his throat bobbing as words eluded him. He did manage to motion them inside the cabin. Yue stepped in first and Katara trailed behind her. Dad led them to the small receiving area inside the captain’s quarters and after they were all sat, he seemed to have gathered his wits back. He cleared her throat carefully.

“Uh, Prin– _Avatar_ Yue,” Dad began, “forgive me if this question comes off as blunt, but how did you get aboard our ship? None of my crew noticed you earlier.”

“Katara helped me get inside undetected. But please do not blame her, this was my choice. I truly apologize for not telling you.”

It nearly cracked her heart hearing Yue sound so contrite, like she was truly expecting Dad to get upset at her. Katara couldn’t help but seek her hand out again to hold it reassuringly. Both their palms were clammy with anxiety, but neither of them cared.

“Everyone back in the north must be in a panic looking for you, princess. I’m afraid I have no choice but to go back so you can return home,” Dad said, and Katara could hug him for how gentle his voice sounded then, despite how tense he must be feeling now. 

“There’s really no need for that, Chief Hakoda.” Yue fished out a folded-up piece of paper from her pocket. “My father told me to give this to you. He knows I’m here and has granted me his personal permission to leave the city. You will find there all you need to know, including the reason behind the need for discreetness when I boarded your ship.”

Dad unfolded the note and read through its contents. The worried lines on his face slowly disappeared and when he put the note back down, there was a small smile on his face. He and Mom looked at each other, some sort of silent communication happening between them that Katara had grown up witnessing. Finally, he faced Yue again. “I guess this means we have to arrange accommodations fit for the Avatar and a princess.”

“Thank you,” Yue bowed her head slightly. “And there’s really no need for that, truly. I wouldn’t want to be a bother. Katara says there are spare cabins near hers? One of those will do.”

“That sounds reasonable. You’ll help the Avatar settle in, will you sweetheart?” Mom asked and Katara nodded immediately. She nearly broke out in cold sweat when her mom squinted slightly at her, an almost knowing look passing through her eyes, then it was over and Katara could breathe normally again. This was Sokka’s fault. She wouldn’t still be this anxious if he hadn’t brought his merry band of Fire Nation buddies with him.

“So, does this mean our daughter here is officially an Avatar’s companion?” Dad said with a grin thrown her way.

Katara’s cheeks grew hot and she had half a mind to tell him to stop talking when she realized it would just make the situation worse and more embarrassing. Then she realized—he was talking about those legendary travelling companions of the Avatar. Not _that_ kind of companion.

Her mom was not inconspicuous about her sly smirk. Katara thought, with a dawning horror, that _of course Mom would notice_.

Tui and La help her, she really had to get a grip of herself or else _everyone_ would know.

Fortunately, Yue seemed clueless about Katara’s internal turmoil. “It would be an honor. I’ve heard nothing but great things about many of the known companions of the Avatars before me, and your daughter is the most gifted waterbender I’ve had the privilege of training with. And she has a good heart. I would be lucky to have her as one.”

She could tell from the way her face felt hot that she was blushing again. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Yue glanced at her with a soft look on her eyes and her heart stuttered, breath leaving her lungs. Katara looked away when it seemed like her chest could not take much more of it and was met by the identical proud looks on her parents faces.

“Chief Arnook mentioned in his note that you are to look for an earthbending teacher,” Hakoda said. “You’ll be bringing Katara with you, then? When you venture to the Earth Kingdom?”

There was the slightest bit of tentativeness in her dad’s voice. But when Yue gave him a nod, his smile only grew.

“We’ll be stopping by at Kyoshi Island. It’s just off the coast of the Earth Kingdom. Maybe you can begin your journey there.”

A feeling, something akin to what she felt when she told her mom about wanting to travel the world and all her other aspirations in life that seemed so unattainable at that time, came over her. It was a mixture of joy and complete, utter relief. 

Yue’s thumb rubbed against her knuckles once. Katara was the one to speak what the both of them were thinking.

“That sounds like an amazing idea, Dad.”

*****

While Dad and Yue were exchanging a few more words by the door, Mom handed her the key to the cabin next to Katara’s. “Make sure your friend gets comfortable, hm?”

She said _friend_ , not the _Avatar_. Katara wasn’t sure why that felt so good to hear coming from her mom.

“I will, Mom. Don’t worry.”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” That teasing-scrutinizing-knowing look was back on her mom’s face again and Katara fled before she could say anything incriminating, although she wasn’t guilty of anything. Nothing at all. So what if she had a crush on Yue? Her mom didn’t have to know that. Though it did seem like her mom already knew and _oh no oh no this won’t do what if everyone else knows what if **she** knows what if_—

“Yue,” she said when she felt the girl’s hand finding hers again.

“Let’s go?”

“Okay,” Katara managed, giving Yue a slight nod. After they bade her parents goodnight, they made their way back to the lower deck and to Sokka’s cabin.

All of them agreed that Mai and Ty Lee should take the spare cabin that was supposed to be Yue’s since no one would dare to attempt breaking into the Avatar’s room. Katara tried to insist that there was not a single person on this ship who would barge inside a cabin that was not theirs but eventually acquiesced only because she’d rather share a room with Yue than Mai who was a complete stranger.

That was how Katara ended up distractedly arranging the fur sheets on their bed, purposefully keeping her eyes on the task while Yue dressed for bed behind her. When Yue was done, they climbed into the bed at the same time. Katara lay on her back and kept her eyes trained to the ceiling.

She heard a soft rustle. From the corner of her eye she saw Yue turning to lie facing her. Outside, the moon was up and some of her light peeked through the small porthole that passed for a window in her cabin. The ship rocked and creaked slightly every now and then as waves lapped against it, and the thought of being surrounded by the sea emboldened her.

She rolled to her side.

“Hey, Yue?”

The other girl hummed. She had her eyes closed eyes but they flickered open again, still clear and awake and _very_ near, and they crinkled at the corners as she smiled languidly at Katara. 

“Thanks,” Katara told her.

“For what?”

“You know, for letting me help you make your _great escape_.”

“You make it sound like something so thrilling.” Yue laughed a little.

“Wasn’t it, though? We did just encounter three stowaways from the Fire Nation, and one of them was the prince.”

“That _was_ unexpected.”

“Unless we meet some giant sea monster along the way, I think keeping Sokka’s stowaway friends out of sight and sneaking food from the kitchen will be the only kind of thrill we’ll be getting out of this whole voyage. We’re good for now.”

She hadn’t even noticed how her hand had crept towards the gap on the bed—just between their chests—until she saw movement from Yue’s end, meeting Katara’s hand halfway, their fingers braiding.

“I don’t mind having to face a monster with you. Maybe we can befriend it.”

That made Katara laugh.

Yue was the first to fall asleep, the delicate lines of her face softening even more. When Katara closed her eyes, an imprint of Yue’s calm face in slumber stayed behind her eyelids and faded only when she too started to drift off.


	3. kyoshi island

There was a collective sigh from the others when they finally neared Kyoshi Island. Hiding them wasn’t as difficult as any of them had feared it would be. They had kept their doors locked, made sure to keep their voices down and their ears out for the occasional footsteps when a crewman passed by to use the corridor as a shortcut. Sometimes, Katara allowed them to go abovedeck late at night when all the crew were asleep. Yue felt bad for their friends—they had to be holed up inside their cabins the whole time—so she tried to keep them occupied and distracted during the journey.

Among the three, she ended up spending more time with Ty Lee. Yue can do her own braids but she let Ty Lee do it from time to time after Katara had showed the other girl how to do a few of the southern styles—which were more functional than elaborate and less accessorized than the formal styles that Yue was used to back home, but she found she liked it. And Katara had that _look_ on her face the first time she saw Yue with her hair braided up in one of the preferred styles of the southern tribe that had made her chest flutter. Ty Lee had also attempted to explain to her about people’s auras; it was a valiant effort but Yue didn’t understand much of it. She told Yue once that her aura was a very pale blue, almost white. She wasn’t sure what that meant.

Prince Zuko was prone to brooding, though most of the time Sokka managed to cheer him up. Mai was… well, she was mostly quiet and she could never really tell what mood she was in.

Katara had occasionally worried about the Fire Nation eventually finding out that their ship “was secretly carrying precious Fire Nation cargo” but her fears were never realized. Yue would try taking her mind off of it by training and sparring with her. Now, Kyoshi Island was already visible on the horizon and not a single one of those imposing steel vessels of the Fire Nation had crossed their path, nor had there been any messenger hawks bearing a scroll with the Fire Lord’s seal demanding his son back.

Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee snuck out of the ship while Katara and Sokka—who told his parents that he was going with them to look after his little sister, which earned him an eyeroll from said little sister—were having lunch with Chief Hakoda. Kya offered to do Yue’s braids and they were inside the cabin Mai and Ty Lee had been sleeping in. Thankfully, none of the other girls’ things were left inside so it was easier to pretend she’d been staying here the whole time.

Kya braided her pale hair with expert and careful hands, making quick work of the task she probably had done a million times before.

“All done,” said Kya. She had her hands gently placed on both of Yue’s shoulders, the warmth of her palms seeping through her summer tunic. A dull ache had begone whirring in Yue’s chest when Kya came to her that morning, a few lighter clothes in her arms that she thought Yue could use. Yue would gladly trade a lot of things in her life to have a moment just like this one with her own mother—to have her help Yue with the most mundane of things, have her impart encouraging words or lend an ear to Yue’s inconsequential troubles.

Before she knew it, Yue was fighting back tears.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” When Yue drew her eyes to the mirror on the vanity across the room, she saw the concern etched on Kya’s face.

“It’s nothing,” she quickly said as she rubbed at her eyes inelegantly. “I just thought about my mother for moment.”

Kya didn’t say anything, didn’t push her to say more. She already knew, as everyone else knew, and it would be cruel to prod at old pain. Instead, she just kept her hands where they were resting on both of Yue’s shoulders. The silence and Kya’s warm presence were a comfort, the quiet understanding in her eyes a balm.

The companionable silence was only broken when someone knocked on the door.

“Yue? Katara wanted me to ask if you’re ready to go,” came Sokka’s voice.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you on the deck!” said Sokka. “I can’t wait to have a meal that isn’t ocean-themed.”

The latter sentence was a code: _Zuko and the others already sent the signal and they’re waiting_.

Yue held back a giggle. Sokka had taken it verbatim from something that Mai had said. None of them could take Sokka’s penchant for elaborate secret codes seriously, but he still insisted on using them.

“The things he says sometimes,” Kya said with a fond smile.

“Thank you for…” Yue gestured at her hair.

“Of course.” Kya’s hands slid from her shoulders to lightly squeeze her arms. “I know you and my children will look out for each other, but promise me you will all keep out from too much trouble, okay?”

Yue nodded, sensing an understanding passing between the two of them in that moment—or perhaps it was just Yue reading too much into things. In any case, she wanted Kya to know that she would do everything in her power to keep Katara and her brother out of harm’s way. The woman hugged her briefly and Yue couldn’t help but lean into it a little. Back on the deck, Kya pulled both her children to her side and did the same, though a bit more forcefully when it came to Sokka who seemed to disagree with his mom that a goodbye hug should last at least a minute.

“We packed you enough food to last at least two weeks. You kids should be fine.” Chief Hakoda sidled up to her.

“You have my thanks.” Yue gave a slight obeisant tilt of her head. “I will not forget the generosity and hospitality you showed to me during the whole voyage. I am in your debt.”

“Please, no need to be so formal, Avatar Yue. We are more than happy to help any friend of Katara’s.”

Her mouth turned up in an involuntary smile, as it usually did at the very mention of Katara. Chief Hakoda gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and walked over to where his family were huddled in the middle of the deck.

*****

They'd been looking for _ages_ , which should be embarrassing because Kyoshi Island’s port was quite small and it should be easy enough to spot the odd little trio of Fire Nationals even when said Fire Nationals were wearing inconspicuous clothes.

By the second hour, Katara was starting to regret helping Sokka.

The sun was bearing down on them and the place was crowded and her bag was heavy. The breeze did very little to mute the summer heat. Next to her, Yue wasn’t faring better. She was sweating profusely and her knitted brow told Katara that she was fighting against her exhaustion.

“We should take a break, Sokka,” Katara said, wiping at her own sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. She could go on for a while longer, but Yue seemed like she needed a breather but was too polite to ask for it.

“No, let’s keep looking.”

She groaned but kept following him, handing Yue her water canteen as they went on. “Drink, it’ll help fend off the heat.”

Yue mumbled her thanks and drank. A droplet of water trailed down one corner of her mouth, Katara’s eyes following it as it trickled down her chin. Her mouth went dry like a land in drought. She took a generous gulp of her own once Yue handed back the canteen.

They were walking along the food stands when Sokka stopped in his tracks, Yue nearly bumping into his back.

“Whoa. Look at that!”

He was pointing upthe road leading to town, lined with houses and littered with locals passing by, going about with their day. Katara looked farther ahead and saw what got her brother so enthused.

Atop a wooden pole stood a tall statue of a woman in a green kimono holding two fans, stretched open and glinting gold under the harsh sun. She’d heard about the Avatar Kyoshi statue from Dad, how it towered over the village like a beacon as if Kyoshi herself were still watching over her home and her people. She felt a hand wrap around her wrist and glanced over to find Yue’s face lit up with awe. 

“Yue, that’s you!” Sokka said, finger still pointed at the statue. “You used to be so tall. What happened?”

Katara smacked him on the arm.

There was a crowd gathered in a circle around the statue. Standing at the edge of it were three distinct figures, made more distinct with Ty Lee bouncing up and down to get a better view of whatever got everyone’s attention. “There they are!”

“What? Where?”

“Over there by the crowd, stupid.”

“Let’s go, then.” Yue began to jog towards them and Katara was dragged forward. She matched her pace and soon they were running, Sokka following in their wake. 

They slowed down once Zuko spotted them. He began to raise his hand in greeting, but it faltered once he saw her face. Katara made a beeline for him, his eyes widening comically, and she made a point of stomping her feet with each step.

“Listen here, Your Highness. We’ve been looking for the three of you for hours! _Hours_! We told you to wait up by the port, not wander around like a bunch of—”

Ty Lee had the gall to shush her. “Please, I’m trying to listen.”

“What’s happening out there?” asked Sokka.

“Some criminals getting caught,” Mai replied, sounding like she couldn’t be less bothered by it.

Katara gave Zuko one last withering look. Then, her curiosity taking over, she stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to catch a glimpse over the crowd. Right in the middle were a group of women in matching armored green kimonos, their face paints mirroring the same white, red, and black of the statue above them. She’d heard about these women too: the Kyoshi Warriors, an elite group you wouldn’t want to trifle with if you don’t want any of your limbs broken, or so Bato had told her. Katara pressed against the person in front of her for a better look and started hopping like what she’d seen Ty Lee do—then she saw the men tied up to the base of Avatar Kyoshi’s statue.

“On top of all these crimes, you have also kidnapped this child,” a voice said, deep and seismic, spreading through the crowd like a warning from the spirits. Katara saw the one who spoke—a Kyoshi Warrior standing over one of the tied-up men and pointing a closed fan towards a little girl.

“We didn’t kidnap her! She’s been travelling with us for months! You saw her defeat us the other day, didn’t you?”

“Are you sure she wasn’t just forced to go with you? That you didn't threaten a child to be a part of your little league?” said another, the voice coming from someone younger this time, but no less commanding. “Sure, she was impressive. But all of you against her?”

“Like that matters. She could take on all of us at once.” The man guffawed. He was either really brave or really stupid. “Forcing her to do anything would be like trying to bend an entire mountain.” 

Everyone’s eyes landed on the child. She was slight and dark haired, some of it falling over her eyes. She wore clothes that had seen better days. Katara’s chest roiled with sympathy and anger towards the criminals.

“All right, to the Unagi with you lot.” The Kyoshi warrior who Katara had first heard speak made a sharp gesture with her arm and the other Kyoshi warriors began to untie the men. There were a lot of threats thrown around as they were dragged forward but when that didn’t work, the criminals began to plead.

Ty Lee leaned towards her. “What’s an Unagi?”

Katara had heard harrowing stories from both Father and Bato about the creature that claimed a portion of the Kyoshi Island bay as its territory—the reason why the port was so small—and all sailors with a working brain knew well to avoid it. “You don’t want to know.”

The crowd parted for the warriors and started to disperse. Katara watched in bemused awe as these women effortlessly dragged buff and massive men like they weighed nothing more than a sack of grain. One of the criminals managed to earthbend a rock towards his captor and the warrior easily brushed it away with a swift blocking move of her metal fan. 

They stared after the Kyoshi warriors as they veered towards a rocky path branching off the main road that led to a copse.

“Who are those women?” Ty Lee’s eyes were sparkling and she was fanning herself with her hands dramatically. Katara couldn’t blame her.

Sokka caught her question and said, “Those are the Kyoshi warriors! Bato told me a story that one time, one of Dad’s crewmen tried to flirt with one of them who was patrolling the port the evening their ship docked. He was probably being rude because he ended up with all the bones in one of his hands broken. The guy’s hand was just—” he dangled his own hand lifelessly and whistled low. “Dad laid off the guy ‘cause he doesn’t tolerate any of that disrespectful behavior and stuff. But he was actually glad he got fired!”

“Well he did get his hand broken. I can’t imagine anyone would want to keep working after that,” Zuko pointed out. “Sounds like he deserved it, though.”

“I’d let one of them break my hand,” Ty Lee murmured. It was the most serious she’d heard the other girl speak.

Sokka stared incredulously at Ty Lee while Mai and Zuko exchanged subtle smirks. Katara bit back her own. 

“You should introduce yourself then,” said Mai.

“They’re obviously busy. I wouldn’t want to take up their precious time.”

“There’s one of them.” Sokka pointed to the younger Kyoshi warrior who spoke up earlier. Ty Lee immediately bounded over to her without a second thought. 

“We should follow her,” Yue said.

By the time they caught up with Ty Lee, she was already standing in front of the other girl and holding her hand out. The warrior took her outstretched hand and Katara idly noted the arm bracers she wore, fitted perfectly to her forearms and bearing a golden insignia. After tentatively shaking Ty Lee’s hand, she shifted her attention towards them. Her brown eyes were narrowed, made sharp by the black kohl accentuating them. She appraised them like a predator would to a lesser one. Katara felt warmth rush up to her face at the intensity of the warrior’s look; from the corner of her eye, she could see that Yue, Sokka and Mai were also rendered motionless.

Zuko, apparently the only one immune to whatever this girl just did to the rest of them, stepped forward.

“Hi, there. I’m Zu… _Zu_. I’m Zuzu.”

Ty Lee snorted loudly and Mai let out a hissing breath that Katara wouldn’t have known was how she sometimes laughed if she hadn’t spent some time with her on a ship.

“ _Zu-Zu_?” The warrior stared at him.

“Yes. That’s me, Zuzu. My actual name.” Zuko looked pained. Sokka clamped both of his hands on his own mouth, his shoulders shaking. 

“That’s stupid. You sure that’s really your name?” It was the kid who said it. Katara noticed how she wasn’t making eye contact with any of them, her eyes pale and a little glazed over. That was when she realized.

“It’s not stupid,” Zuko said. “My sister gave me that name!”

“I thought it was your _actual_ name.”

“It is!”

“You sure?”

“Let’s not quarrel over names,” Yue said to the both of them. She moved forward and calmed Zuko down with a gentle brush of her hand on his shoulder then faced the Kyoshi warrior. “May I know yours?”

“It’s Suki,” the warrior told her. She seemed less tense now that she was talking to Yue; she even offered Yue a friendly smile. Katara felt a small unpleasant prickle in her chest and brushed it off right away.

“I’m Yue. I came all the way from the North Pole with my companions.”

Katara saw the realization dawn on the Kyoshi warrior named Suki: confusion melting into recognition, then awe.

“Wait, you’re the Avatar.”

“Well spotted,” Sokka said. Suki cut him a glare.

Yue turned her attention to the child. Though now that Katara could get a closer look at her, she didn’t seem that much younger than them. “How about you?” Yue asked.

“The name’s Toph.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Toph.”

“Not sure I can say the same about you, little miss Avatar. You and your little posse seem like trouble.”

“Hey!” Katara said.

“Oooh, so who are you supposed to be? The Avatar’s bodyguard? Her girlfriend, maybe?”

“I’m not— ugh!” Katara couldn’t remember ever blushing this much in one day.

“That’s enough, Toph,” Suki said. She looked amused, and so did everyone else, much to Katara’s annoyance. Yue was avoiding her eyes and fiddling with her bracelet. “So, what’s the Avatar doing here in our humble little island? Aside from the fact that it’s Avatar Kyoshi’s home island, that is. But I’d expect Agna Qel’a to write to our village leader before you arrived. Oyaji would’ve prepared something.”

Yue shrugged. “The circumstances that led to my arrival are quite complicated. I’d love to visit Kyoshi’s shrine, but I admit that isn’t the main reason I’m here.”

“Then why _did_ you come here?” Toph asked

“Will you please not interrupt her?” Katara said. 

“My companions are looking for someone who lives in this island.” Yue urged Zuko with a nod of her head.

“Her name is Keiko,” Zuko told Suki. “I'm told that I could ask anyone here and they would where she is.” 

Suki’s eyes grew wide, then in a flash her intense gaze was back.

“Why?”

“I just have something to ask her. It’s…. very important to me.”

Suki stared at him for a moment longer, then she crooked a finger under her chin and hummed quietly.

“You aren’t actually considering taking him to her, are you?”

Katara had enough of this kid. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?!”

“Cool down, sweetness. I'm just being sensible here. This Zu-Zu guy isn’t exactly giving off trustworthy vibes.”

Suki clapped her hands together, startling everyone except Toph and Mai.

“All right, I’ll take you to our leader,” she said.

“Your leader?”

“Yes. You probably saw her. She was the one who interrogated the smugglers.” At Zuko’s panicked look, she added, “Relax, she’s not going to feed you to the Unagi or anything. That is, if asking her questions is your only motive for seeking her out. Keiko’s not one to mess with. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“We’re quite aware,” said Mai.

“Wait, wait, wait, you mean the person we’re looking for is that tall, amazing, gorgeous, warrior woman earlier?” Ty Lee asked. She was leaning so close to Suki that their noses bumped. The other girl blinked at her.

“Uh, yes?”

Ty Lee backed away in a twirl then pointed a finger at Mai. “I told you coming with us wouldn’t be boring and I was right!”

*****

On their way to the Kyoshi Warrior compound, they found out that Toph wasn’t actually kidnapped. She ran away with the Earth Rumble Travelling Tournament and travelled with them across the Earth Kingdom for almost a year—from Gaoling to Omashu to Makapu and other cities and towns Katara hadn’t heard of. Apparently, the tournament was just a front for some illegal smuggling of stolen goods but Toph was just in it for the earthbending and, as she put it, _to kick some butt_.

The idea of Toph being an earthbending champion would’ve been ludicrous to Katara if she hadn’t seen her earthbend a large boulder earlier with a flick of her wrist just to prove a point. And Suki had confirmed it, said she’d seen one of the matches herself when she was tasked by her leader to investigate them and that Toph had seen insanely good. Suki didn’t seem like someone who would lie about such a thing.

There was also the fact that she could _see_ through earthbending. That in itself was decidedly, mind-bogglingly, impressive.

“And they were going to send me back to Gaoling! After all we’ve been through together!”

“You said you kicked their ass every time and never let anyone win one match against you. They were probably bitter,” Sokka remarked.

Katara rolled her eyes at that. “What a bunch of babies.”

Zuko, who had kept his head down until now, spoke up.

“They were going to put her in a metal cage to be traded for gold. They’re not just dishonorable brutes but they’re also pathetic.”

“Exactly! Zu-Zu guy gets it.” Toph punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Where was I? Right. I found out they were going to sell me out. But then I thought, if they were going to do it,” Toph went on, “I might as well do it first, right? I remembered Suki when she visited our campsite to look for any possible illegal operation going on, boring stuff like that. Those guys were idiots but they knew how to hide their tracks, but I know every little secret they had.

So, I snuck out one night, went to the Kyoshi warriors, and tipped them off. Keiko took a few other warrior gals with her to raid the campsite and looked where I told them to look. They found a bunch of smuggled stuff.” Toph grinned wide. “I was with Suki during all of it. The whole kidnap thing was just a little bonus I asked for in exchange just to see the look on their faces. They were going to do it anyway, so why not add that to the reason for them to be eaten by some giant fish whatever it’s called.”

“They're actually being fed to the Unagi?”

“Not really,” said Suki. “Keiko’s just scaring them a bit before they’re shipped off. She doesn’t trust the authorities in the mainland to be able to hold them for long, with bribery being a thing and all, so we give them little harmless trauma to set them straight. A little Kyoshi Island souvenir, if you will.”

“Right.” Sokka swallowed.

They reached the small compound, which was separated from the main village and situated right along the edge of a forest. There was an elaborate outdoor obstacle course and a small empty space that likely served as their training grounds, a patch of garden with vegetables on one side, and finally, a two-story house. It was made of wood like most of the other homes they’d passed by; it wasn’t very large either and it looked old but well maintained. Suki led them towards it.

Inside was an unfurnished room where a few Kyoshi warriors were performing some dance-like routine with their fans. Katara and the others paused while Suki talked to one of the warriors, watching from the sides as the rest of the warriors went on as if no one had entered the room.

A sharp flick, fans snapping open, fluttering, pivoting, thrust, another flick, then strike. It was mesmerizing, like an art designed to beguile its victims as much as it was meant to end them.

“This is the best day of my life,” said Ty Lee with that out-of-place solemnness again.

“Suki’s the youngest one, then?” Sokka asked no one in particular.

“Well spotted.” Suki appeared by his side, making the latter flinch. “I got initiated early because I grew up here in the compound. Been learning and training my whole life.”

“Grew up as in you were raised here?”

“Yes. I was raised by Keiko, actually. Someone left me in her doorstep as a baby and she decided to keep me.” Suki shrugged easily like she hadn’t just revealed a significant information about herself. She seemed proud of it.

They followed Suki as she walked over to a door on the far-left side. She slid it open to reveal another, much smaller room. A window facing west revealed the salmon sky and the slowly setting sun, a large wooden desk laden with scrolls and letters with unbroken seals below it. Suki made them sit on the chairs inside.

“This is Keiko’s personal study. Wait here while I go outside to meet her. She and the others will be back soon.” She narrowed her gaze at all of them, even Yue. “Do not touch anything. Do not break anything. If you do, you’ll be Unagi fodder by nightfall.”

“We won’t,” said Zuko.

Suko nodded before smiling. “I’ll be back with Keiko.”

When Suki left and was out of earshot, Sokka let out a whistle.

“She’s certainly something, isn’t she?”

Zuko frowned slightly at that.

“Yeah, Suki’s all right.” Toph lazily folded her hands behind her head and stretched her legs, resting her dirt-crusted feet on the small wooden table in front of her. Katara scowled.

“Be careful! You might break something.”

It went on like that for a while: Katara scolding anyone who touched anything, Sokka snooping about on the bookshelf attached to the wall and running his hands on the spines, Toph being a _child_ , and Zuko tapping his foot against the floorboards impatiently. She didn’t snap at Zuko for that, though. Poor guy was probably just anxious.

The sun had almost fully set when the door opened again, revealing the tall, formidable figure whose painted face was dappled in shadows. It was like Avatar Kyoshi had come again, which wasn’t actually outside the realm of possibility given the fact that Yue was the Avatar. Still, the hairs on the back of Katara’s neck rose.

The leader of the Kyoshi Warriors went to her desk and lit up a lamp. She sat down on her large seat, elbows resting on the polished wooden surface of her desk. With the room now illuminated, she could see Keiko looking directly at Yue, an assessing look not so different from the one Suki had given them earlier. The woman gave a perfunctory bow of her head.

“Avatar Yue,” she greeted in her deep, resonant voice, lower now that she was only speaking to a few in the same room. “The spirits have greatly blessed us with your presence. But why so unannounced?”

“I apologize for the unceremonious manner of my visit and I thank you for receiving us despite of it. I came here because my companions have some important questions to ask you.”

“Yes, Suki told me all about that,” Keiko flicked her hand. “What I’m really asking is why have you left the North Pole without anyone knowing? I might just be gravely misinformed, but I thought you were to stay in Agna Qel’a while you master the elements?”

Something like pride rose in Katara’s chest when Yue raised her chin and held Keiko’s inquisitive look, her own gaze a quiet challenge. 

“It was my decision to leave. I had my father’s approval but I defied the council of Northern Sages and masters. I intend to find my own way as the Avatar, seek my own masters, make the journey like the Avatars before me.”

A corner of Keiko’s mouth lifted up slightly. Her eyes eased to warm appraisal, at least as much warmth that could be afforded with her imposing face paint, but Katara felt Yue’s shoulders relax beside her.

“I’ve always thought their plan to isolate you while you train was unorthodox, just not the right kind. It doesn’t change the fact that it isn’t my place to question the Northern Sages. I’m only the leader of a small order of elite warriors in a small island. The Earth Sages were more worried about not having more influence on you. It’s all politics to these men, unfortunately. And the Earth King—well, the Earth King has gone pliant after years of the lasting peace and order that Avatar Aang left the world with.” Keiko let out a sigh like she was lamenting about unruly children and not some of the most respectable figures in the Four Nations. “Avatar Kyoshi disliked politics, you know.”

“I’ve read accounts that said the same thing, though the historians made it sound like she was cold. It didn’t ring true to me.”

Keiko nodded sagely. “People mistake efficiency for coldness. During most of her long life, Kyoshi was passionate about a lot of things. I’d be happy to tell you more but I’m sure you’ll get to meet her yourself in time.”

“How did you learn all that stuff about Avatar Kyoshi?” her stupid brother asked, inserting himself in the conversation while the rest of them tactfully kept quiet.

“Kyoshi is something of an ancestor. Not by blood, but there’s more to family than blood ties.” Her eyes momentarily landed on Suki, who stood by the door. “She and her wife raised a child they called their own, then their daughter started a family, then her daughter’s children did, and on it went, as life does. It’s not something a lot of people know of.”

“Avatar Kyoshi had a wife?!”

Keiko’s smile widened. “Like I said, not a lot of people know. Stories about Kyoshi made for very interesting family heirlooms, or sometimes bedtime stories. Isn’t that right, Suki?”

Suki grinned. “A lot of them kept me awake instead of helping me sleep.”

If those were anything close to Gran Gran’s bedtime stories about careless hunters who lost their way because of their carelessness or sea monsters lurking underneath the ice they stood on, Katara thought that maybe Suki wasn’t exaggerating.

“Okay, Avatar Yue. We’ll speak more later. For now, let’s deal with your royal friend.”

The way Keiko’s eyes darted to Zuko was so quick that if her look brought with it a physical blow, Zuko would’ve been taken down with none of them being able to stop it.

“Prince Zuko, to what do I owe this honor?”

The effect was immediate. Zuko tensed and the two girls on either side of him shifted protectively: Ty Lee coiled up as if readying herself to pounce if needed, and Mai’s hand discreetly inched closer to her sleeve. If Katara noticed, a warrior like Keiko was not far behind. The silence that blanketed them was charged. Yue’s hand brushed against her arm briefly, telling her to wait for their cue should things escalate.

Suddenly, Toph broke out in a laugh. Each pair of eyes inside the room stared at her.

“I knew you were lying about your name the first time so it wasn’t as funny. But Zuko still sounds stupid,” said Toph before Zuko’s stuttering indignation set her off again.

“ _Beifong_ , please. That’s enough.”

Toph froze, all humor draining out of her as quick as a snap of a Kyoshi warrior’s metal fan.

“You knew about that?”

“I didn't. But I did know that Lao Beifongs’ only child has been gone for a while and there’s a fat weight of gold in exchange for your safe return, and I learned that the Earth Rumble came from Gaoling after Suki investigated them for me. I couldn’t be sure, but I had my suspicions. The man who calls himself the Boulder confirmed them while I dangled him by the ankles over the Unagi’s territory.”

“That rat,” Toph spat.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m not in the business of forcing children to go back to a home they hate enough to leave, but do allow me to ensure you don’t get yourself into more trouble.”

Toph shrugged but kept her mouth closed, and her silence felt like the closest thing to an expression of gratitude that one could expect from an uncouth kid like her.

“The same goes for you, Prince Zuko.” Keiko looked at him again. “Don’t be so surprised that I recognized you. We’ve met before, but I wasn’t wearing my face paint and armor then, and it was a long time ago.”

Zuko gave her a quizzical look. “Perhaps you can jog my memory?”

“I once went to the Fire Nation capital to visit a distant relative and a dear friend. She was one of Princess Azula’s tutors and her royal chaperone. I was there when the princess had dragged her along to accompany the two of you while you visit the travelling bazaar in Harbor City. I came with her even though you had an entire honor guard with you, but she said I’d be more helpful than them anyway. More subtle. No one would expect a foreigner in ill-fitting borrowed robes to be good in a fight. You might still remember her. Her name was—”

“Rikai,” said Zuko. “I know. She’s the reason I came all the way here to talk to you about.”

Zuko explained to her his uncle’s death, told her about the journal, about his sister and her tutor being alive. Keiko listened to him patiently and, judging from her grave silence, Katara knew that the sister Zuko was looking for was not on this island as he’d hoped.

Keiko’s brow furrowed when Zuko finished talking, disturbing the perfect shapes and streaks of her face paint. 

“I haven’t seen or heard from Rikai in the last five years. I’m truly sorry, Prince Zuko.”

Her tone was as careful as a healer’s while tending a broken limb. Despite her gentleness, Zuko’s expression fell, crumbling for a moment before he regained control of himself.

“I understand.”

“I know this only brings a hollow comfort, if it could even manage that, but I swear on my honor that if they had come here, I would’ve done everything to keep them safe.”

Zuko raised up his head and the two shared a nod. Katara’s eyes stung while watching Zuko’s face and hearing Keiko’s firm words. She’d sworn on her honor. Katara knew enough about the Fire Nation to be aware of the weight of it.

As if Katara needed another reason to admire the woman, she noted how Keiko didn’t question Zuko’s claims about Fire Lord Ozai. If she was skeptical, she'd been careful not to make it show.

Zuko handed her the journal and she read through the last page. Katara knew that its contents were written and signed by Prince Iroh, and she also knew that whatever suspicions Keiko might have about the Fire Lord being a monster who was willing to have his own daughter and brother killed would be squashed after reading it.

“The Kyoshi Warriors do not meddle with outside matters like this, but if there’s even a sliver of chance that Rikai is alive then I won’t just stand by and do nothing. I understand the need for discreetness; I can assure you that no one will know of your presence while you stay under my roof.” She beckoned to Suki who instantly went to her side. “Please show the Avatar’s companions the guest rooms so they can put their things there, then bring them to the dining room. You go ahead and eat with them, too. I know you missed your meal earlier after that whole mess with the smugglers.”

Zuko was the one to stand first, but Keiko stopped him. “I wish to speak with you more later, Prince Zuko. Perhaps after you’ve had dinner.”

He nodded and walked with Sokka placing an arm around his shoulder. Mai and Ty Lee followed. Katara paused in front of Keiko before she caught up with the others, Yue right beside her.

“I’m Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. I wanted to thank you for letting us stay.”

“It is small thing,” Keiko said. “Stay as long as you need. But I imagine you’d be travelling again soon.”

Katara looked to Yue.

“It depends on whether I can find an earthbending teacher here," said Yue. "Do you know of anyone in the island who can teach me?”

“We have earthbenders, but most of them use their skills for farming and building. I don’t believe that’s the skillset an Avatar needs.”

Yue smiled but Katara noticed the way her eyes had dimmed. “Those are valuable abilities to have, but no. I don’t believe so.”

Keiko promised that she would help them get to the mainland once they were ready to leave and proceed with their search for a teacher. They left the study after thanking Keiko once more. The others were waiting for them outside and together, they followed Suki towards a set of stairs, none of them saying a single word.

*****

Yue shared a room with Katara, Mai, and Ty Lee. Zuko and Sokka took the other guest room while Toph stayed in Suki's. Each room had two comfortable beds, but Yue did not feel like sleeping. Mai shared the sentiment.

They heard the faint but distinct grinding and cracking from outside and went to the window to peer through it.

The moon wasn’t full but there was just enough light for Yue to make out the two figures on the grounds. One of them was clearly Toph, jabbing at the air with sharp jerks of her limbs, her bare feet shifting and stomping. Clumps of earth were dislodged at her command and she was throwing them at the other figure across her. Yue straightened in alarm, but then she heard Suki’s laugh. The Kyoshi warrior wasn’t wearing her face paint or her armor, but Yue could tell it was her from the familiar lilt of her voice.

“I swear, the people I get mixed up with are always so weird.”

Yue covered a hand over her mouth so her laugh wouldn’t wake up Katara and Ty Lee.

“Should we go down and watch?” she asked Mai. The other girl sighed and made for the door without waiting for Yue.

“Might as well get some fresh air and watch the loud child try crushing the warrior girl with rocks if we aren’t going to sleep.”

They descended the stairs, every creak of wood made louder by the quiet of the night. Keiko and Suki were the only permanent inhabitants of the house. The other warriors apparently had homes of their own in the village, living with family or by themselves. 

Toph and Suki were still going at it when they stepped outside. The night air held no chill in the summer, unlike the north where the cold was a permanent fixture.

“Good, an audience,” said Toph, though her back was turned to them.

During dinner, Toph explained to them a little about how she could see using her connection to the earth as an earthbender, how seismic vibrations lent her vision and spatial awareness where her eyes could not. She likely felt their footsteps as they approached. She also seemed encouraged by their presence, her attacks getting quicker and forcing Suki to dodge and roll at faster speeds. There was a touch of yearning in Yue as she watched Toph flung lumps of earth with ease, not a sign of effort being expended, like commanding the very element they stood on was just play.

“Think fast, Avatar!”

Toph whirled to face her and chopped the air with her hand. Two columns of earth rose on Yue’s left and she moved away just in time before they hit her. Yue barely noticed the slight sliding motion Toph made with her foot. It sent a shock wave through the earth, culminating with a large pillar emerging from underneath Yue. She leapt out of the way but as soon as she landed on her feet, the ground shook beneath her. She regained her balance when it stopped, planting her feet firmly to the ground. By some strange and overpowering instinct she dropped into an unfamiliar low stance. She was as still as an iceberg—no, that wasn’t right, her muscles were not frozen but compact, her body tethered to the soil her soles were rooted to.

Toph stomped her heel and launched a large piece of the ground at her.

Yue clenched her hands into fists and thrust them forward.

She wasn’t dead, that was the first thing she noticed. The next thing was the massive chunk of earth hovering in front of her. She pulled back her outstretched fists and the displaced earth fell to the ground with a loud thud.

“What were you thinking?” Suki was bearing down on Toph. “She could’ve been hurt! Keiko would’ve been furious!”

“Funny, you weren’t complaining when it was you who I threw earth at.”

“That was different, Toph. We were practicing.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you saw her, right? Don’t tell me you’ve gone blind too.”

“You could’ve at least warned her.”

“Eh, no better way to learn earthbending than that.”

While the two went on with their back and forth, Mai walked over to Yue, looking at her with mild interest.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

Yue let her arms fall limply to her sides. She felt as if the muscles there had been squeezed and pummeled with a battering ram, unused to the effort of bending the earth.

“I didn’t know I could, either.”

“Guess the kid managed to beat it out of you.”

Yue laughed breathlessly. She lifted her eyes to look at Toph, who had her arms folded and threw snark as easily as she did with boulders and rocks. She knew Toph meant something else by it, but Yue realized the truth in her words all the same: there was no better way to learn earthbending than to learn it from someone who knew the earth so well that she could hear its whispers better than anyone.

The council would never approve. They’d be livid. They would go purple in outrage and incredulity at the mere thought of someone so young, younger even than Yue, sullying their precious Avatar with her inexperience and a lack of any regard for rules.

Yue’s smile grew.

“Can you teach me how to do that?”

“—what?” Toph faced her.

“Teach me to bend earth like you.”

Toph scoffed. “No one could earthbend like me.”

“I know. But teach me, anyway.” Yue set her shoulders the same way she saw Father do, hoping that the gamble she was about to make would pay off. “Consider it a challenge. See if you can manage teaching the Avatar to be half as good as you.” 

Toph slowly grinned at her. “Well, if you put it that way.”

*****

They still didn’t go to bed after all that. If anything, Yue found it harder to sleep now.

Suki brought them to the vegetable garden beside the house. She told them that every Kyoshi warrior was required to learn how to tend to plants as a lesson of patience, a reminder that violence was not what their hands are truly for, but to protect the fragile and weed out those who sought to harm them.

They sat on a log near a small plum tree—Suki had planted it herself when she was a very young Kyoshi warrior in training—and if only Yue could firebend, she would’ve made a fire with the few twigs littered around them. They didn’t need the warmth, but after earthbending for the first time and finding a teacher her mind had opened up to new prospects, of the other elements she could learn to control.

“Lesson one, don’t get ahead of yourself,” said Toph from across her like she’d been reading her thoughts. “Just because you did that earlier, you still have a long way to go. And never forget that I’m the master here. I don't give a flap if you're little miss Avatar.”

Suki came to sit beside Yue. “I wasn’t aware you two have started. Should we leave you to it?”

“I was just making it clear who’s the boss here.”

“Why did you agree?” Mai asked her. “You don’t strike me as someone who would do something just because someone asked you nicely.”

“ _Psh_ , I didn’t agree to teach her because she asked nicely. I just thought it’d be cool if I’m the one who trained moon princess here. There’s no one more qualified for the job than me. Besides, now that my Earth Rumble days are over, I figured I could use a new hobby.”

“And you don’t have any friends so you also figured you could use some people to hang around with.”

“You know I can easily fling a rock to your face, right?”

Mai actually smiled. “I can do the same with one of my knives.”

“No one’s throwing anything at anyone,” Suki said. Toph and Mai shrugged in unison.

Toph pointed her finger at Mai. “How about you? You don’t seem to strike me as someone who would help some prince for nothing.”

Mai grew stock-still and her face had gone more expressionless than Yue had ever seen it. Yue looked away, knowing Mai well enough by now to know better than to push, but Suki and Toph were still waiting for her to say something.

Eventually, Mai sighed. “Ty Lee genuinely wants to find Azula. Zuko's sister. I don’t care that much if we do or not.”

Suki raised a brow at that. Yue didn’t know about this either. She hadn’t really spoken with Mai that much— the other girl either kept to herself or talked with Ty Lee and Zuko, sometimes with Katara but those conversations had been stiff at best.

Mai rolled her eyes. “Spare me that look. Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not what I meant. Azula was… to say she was abrasive would be an understatement. But she was my friend at some point, and she didn’t deserve to die. I just don’t know if her turning up alive would really be a good thing.”

“How is that not a good thing?” Yue couldn’t help but blurt out.

“You don’t know their father,” the other girl said plainly. “I’m one to talk, though. I’m actually going along with whatever this is, but Zuko would probably end up dead without us watching his back. It’s not like I have anything better to do back home.”

“It sounds like you also wanted a way out,” Toph said.

Mai reached into her robes and brandished one of her knives. She laid the flat of the blade on her palm, its tip reaching the pad of her finger. It probably brought her some form of comfort, a familiar thing to ground her, or maybe she just wanted something to do with her hands. Yue couldn’t tell.

“Could be. My dad’s a sycophant who hardly let me do things. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m a nobleman’s daughter. Call me ungrateful or whatever, I don’t care.”

“Oh, you don’t have to explain that to me. My parents are filthy rich but I wasn’t allowed to do _anything_. I get it.”

“I don’t think either of you are being ungrateful,” Yue murmured. “None of us are.”

Mai shrugged noncommittally. “Sure, if that makes you feel better about yourself.”

Yue’s giggle sputtered out of her, sudden and slightly self-deprecating.

“Guess that makes Suki the only one of us three who hasn’t run away from home,” Toph said.

“I got lucky,” Suki said. “I wouldn’t want to leave the island.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mai’s head tilted slightly.

“Of course.”

The two of them locked gazes, Mai’s cool cynicism clashing with Suki’s wide-eyed conviction. Yue was caught in the middle of it, a taut wire connecting the two right under her nose, unsure of what to do other than lean back and away from the line of fire. 

Suki cut the wire first. “Fine, I admit it. I’m not.”

Mai relaxed back, though not without tossing Suki a small quirk of her lips.

“When I was young, Keiko always told me I was meant for far greater things, that one day the world will see how special I am the same way she does.”

Mai arched her brow. “And you bought that?”

“I mean, yeah. When you’re a kid and the alternative meant you were left as a baby for no reason other than because you weren’t wanted, you tend to believe anything.” Suki stared at her own feet. “I know now that Keiko was just being kind when she said those things, but it stayed with me. I love my home, I love my sisters, I love being in the village, but I also want to do more. Be more.”

“You should go for it,” said Mai. “I don't suppose there's a shortage of things to do for a practiced warrior out there.” There was something in the way she said it, matter-of-fact and stripped of any vehemence that could make others misconstrue her words as being anything other than genuine. 

Suki smiled, a slow curl of the lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yue reached for the ivory bracelet in her wrist. She thought of those long conversations with Katara—at night and at sea in their shared cabin with moonlight peeking through the porthole, whispered voices and hands twined—and then back to what Suki told them.

How lucky the world was—how lucky they all were, really, to have girls like Katara and Suki to never settle for less than what they deserved. Everything was all the better for it.


	4. sand and water

Surprisingly, Yue was a quick study in earthbending. It took some push from Toph at the beginning, and it resulted to some heated exchanges between Katara and her earthbending teacher. But as soon as she grew accustomed to Toph’s straightforward methods, it got easier to get a handle of bending an element as stubborn as the earth.

It was rather strange how it came with less resistance compared to when she was first learning how to waterbend. Katara believed it was because her confidence was growing, and because “there aren’t any stuck-up masters breathing down your neck this time.” As always, she was probably right. Yue was surrounded by friends who encouraged her and cheered her on. Even Toph’s taunts didn’t deter her, she knew those were just encouragements framed as harmless insults—something like rugged affectionate in Toph’s book.

Some days Yue was convinced the island had something to do with it, at least a little. She frequented Kyoshi’s shrine, feeling a very faint pull inside of her whenever she came near her past life’s treasured possessions. She was there now, sitting cross-legged on the grass right outside the shrine, the sun drenching her with warmth while she meditated. Yue wasn’t an expert in the practice, but the sages had taught her enough of the basics and some she’d gathered on her own in the many hours she’d spent by herself in the Spirit Oasis with nothing else to do.

“There you are!”

Yue shook from her calm haze and opened her eyes. Toph was standing in front of her, her hands propped up on her hips. Behind her, Sokka was lumbering his way towards them, hefting what looked like a sack on one arm and a Pai Sho board on the other.

“How are you so fast,” he panted.

“What’s happening?”

Toph plopped down on the ground. “The grown-ups are talking.”

Yue raised her eyebrows at Toph. 

“Zuko and Katara are in Keiko’s study discussing…stuff. Whatever. Point is, we’re bored.”

“And you came to me?”

“Well, we’re bored.”

Yue sighed. “Where’s Ty Lee and Mai? Or Suki?”

“Ty Lee is trying to teach Suki that”—she tried imitating Ty Lee’s chi-blocking—“thing while Mai is throwing knives at trees. Again.”

Sokka had caught up to them and collapsed on the grass. “Hey, Yue.”

Yue smiled at him. “Katara and Zuko are talking with Keiko?”

“Yeah. I think it’s about Zuko’s plan,” Sokka said. “Keiko was going to ask for you too but then Katara said you were meditating.”

Zuko’s plan—which was to travel to the other place his uncle marked on his journal where Princess Azula could be hiding—had been a rather contentious topic within their group. Ty Lee and Zuko were all for it, Mai was apprehensive but would go if Ty Lee did, Sokka wanted to go but was having second thoughts since Katara was thinking it would be better if she and Yue stayed behind in Kyoshi so Yue could continue her earthbending training with Toph. Yue could see her point; she’d only been training for a month and though she’d made great progress, it would take a bit more time to master the element fully. But a part of her also wanted to help Zuko.

“I better go down there.”

“Hold on, moon princess.” Toph raised her hand. “Did I say you could leave?”

Yue sat back down. “No, Sifu Toph.”

“Good, because I’m going to teach you a neat trick!”

Toph jerked her hand at Sokka, who scrambled to place the sack he’d carried all the way here in front of her. He must be really bored to let Toph boss him around without grousing about it. Toph untied the sack and Yue peeked inside. It was filled with sand.

“Sandbending!” Toph said excitedly. “I picked it up when I was travelling with the Earth Rumble across the Si Wong desert. I was going to wait a while before teaching it to you but then I have nothing better to do today so why not start now? Anyway, you’re probably good enough to learn it. If you don’t start slacking again.”

“I won’t start slacking.” She had never slacked in training ever.

“Now, be a good pupil and stick your arm inside the sack.”

Frowning slightly, she did as she was told. The sand was up to her elbows when it suddenly solidified, making her yelp. What had been grains of beach sand just a moment ago were now as hard as concrete and trapping half of her arm.

When she drew her head up, she was met with Toph’s wide grin. “Perfect! I’ll give you until sunset to try bending the sand back to remove your hand. And I mean bend each grain of sand back. No cheating. Don’t just crack your way out of it. I _will_ know if you do.”

This wasn’t at all how she’d planned to spend her afternoon.

“And if I can’t bend it back by sunset?”

“I didn’t think about that. Let’s see… I’ll let you cheat, but you have to an extra hour of stance training before dinner.”

“Okay, Sifu.” She sheard Sokka snicker when she pouted.

“Great! Now quit yapping and do your thing while Sokka and I play Pai Sho.”

“I’m so going to beat you again.” Sokka rubbed his hands together.

“Not this time, fartface.”

Yue let out a sigh and concentrated on her task ahead.

*****

“The Sun Warrior ruins?” Keiko looked at Zuko like he was some spider-snake oil dealer. “Please enlighten me as to what in the spirits’ name that place is.”

Zuko launched into his little practiced speech: fallen ancient civilization, an island of ruins, its location near the sunken ship, Katara had heard it all before, had been on the other end of Zuko’s attempt at persuasion plenty of times.

“And how do you propose you get there?”

“I’ll write to my father,” Katara said. “Zuko said he’ll compensate him. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insists.”

“You and Avatar Yue will go with them?”

“Well… Yue still has her training with Toph, so I think we’ll stay behind.” She threw Zuko an apologetic look.

Keiko tapped her fingers on her desk. “I promised that I would help you find Rikai and the princess, and I intend to stay true to my word. With that said, I think it will be safer if we keep things as clandestine as we’ve managed so far.” She took a sip of her tea. “We don’t have to involve the Southern Water Tribe into this.”

“My dad will keep it a secret if I told him to, I swear.”

“And I believe you, Katara, but your father is a village chief. If word leaks out to the Fire Lord that a water tribe chief has been secretly stowing his missing son in one of his ships then we’ll have a far bigger problem in our hands. Water Tribe ships also aren’t inconspicuous, and Zuko has to somehow cross Fire Nation territory to get to this place.”

Keiko was right, as she usually was. “I understand.”

“There’s someone I know that could grant you passage to this place and back. Someone I trust. She’ll be docking on the island a week or so from now as scheduled. It’s a small cargo ship, but I assume luxury isn’t a priority of yours.”

“It’s not,” Zuko said immediately. “We just need to get there.”

“Who is this person?” Katara asked.

“A friend. She came from a family of sailors. If you want to avoid drawing attention to the Fire Nation navy, she’s your best bet.”

The three of them took a sip of their tea. Zuko and Katara eyed each other over their cups.

“There’s also something else I want to talk to discuss,” Keiko began as she set her cup down. “I’m not entirely comfortable about letting you leave all by yourselves, but I can’t go with you either. I have a duty to the village, and it would be best if I stay should you need to find refuge here again. But I asked my sisters if anyone wanted to volunteer to escort you.” She paused. Keiko resumed her tapping, the staccato sound of it like nervous heartbeats. “Suki said she’ll go with you.”

Katara wasn’t sure what to say. It would also make her feel better if Suki went with them, all the more because for all his hesitance, she knew her brother would end up going with Zuko. But she also didn’t think it would be right to say that out loud. She didn’t know if Keiko liked the idea, and the look on her face was hard to read even without the face paint.

Zuko cleared his throat. “Well, if it’s okay with her.”

“As a matter of fact, she insists she has to.” Keiko smiled at her cup of tea. It was too soft of an expression for her, too private. With her face bare of the signature red and white, the bittersweet curl of her mouth was as clear as the freckles on her dark cheeks.

“Uh… that’s great, then.”

Keiko’s soft smile was gone when she eyed Zuko again. “Should you encounter any danger, Suki will help you. I know you’re a skilled bender yourself and that your companions are formidable in their own right, but Suki will be a useful asset. She’s a master of stealth and evasion, which I believe you all lack in some way.” Zuko bristled a little but didn’t say anything. “But there is one thing I want you to promise me, Prince Zuko.”

“What is it?”

“You watch each other’s backs. Suki will think it her mission to protect all of you, but all I ask is that you return the favor if worse comes to worst.”

Zuko nodded. “We will.”

“Very well. You can go now.”

The two of them thanked Keiko then stepped outside of her study. Katara waved at the few Kyoshi warriors who were doing stretches as they passed the training room. They smiled and greeted back.

“I have to tell Mai and Ty Lee,” Zuko said once they were outside.

“You should probably tell Mai first.” Katara pointed her chin at the two girls in the training grounds. Suki was doing whip-sharp punches in the air while Ty Lee was cheerfully correcting her form in between flips and splits. “Ty Lee looks busy.”

“Right. Mai’s at her usual spot, I think.”

Mai was, in fact, at her usual spot. It was somewhere not too deep within the woods adjacent to the compound, a portion of the forest floor flattened with Toph’s help and some tree trunks marked with targets. Zuko had used his bending instead of paint to make them, concentrating his fire on one finger and using it as a scorch marker to draw concentric circles on the trees. Katara thought it was needlessly tedious and completely endearing. Mai had only groaned at him when he showed the place to her, but he’d smiled like it was the reaction he’d been hoping.

Now, Zuko was frowning as they came closer to where Mai was practicing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, just… she doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood.”

Katara looked closely at Mai. Nothing seemed amiss to her. Zuko didn’t stop walking though, so she kept pace with him until they were a few steps away from Mai.

“Mai? We need to talk ab—”

“ _What_?”

If Katara hadn’t been standing next to Zuko, she wouldn’t have noticed the shuriken that flew just a foot away from his head.

Katara knew Mai’s aim was perfect. She’d seen her practice enough times within the past few weeks to know that the girl never missed her target. She knew the shuriken was never meant to hit Zuko, that Mai had intended for it to miss. That was the reasonable part of her brain. The other part was glaring at Mai like her eyes were her own daggers. Not as sharp, of course, but enough to get the point across.

“What is wrong with you?!”

Zuko laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“You can’t just go around throwing _knives_ at people!

“She’s just in a bad mood, Katara. I’m used—”

“That’s stupid! Do _you_ shoot fire at people when you’re in a bad mood? No!”

Zuko, like the crazy idiot that he was, grinned at her. “That’s a little hypocritical coming from you, don’t you think? I mean, you chase Sokka with ice spikes when he annoys you.”

“What does that”—Katara faced him—“have to do with the fact that _Mai_ threw a knife at _you_ unprovoked? How do I know she’s not going to do that to me and the others at some point and not actually miss?”

Mai finally spoke up. “Relax, I’m not going to waste my time doing that.” She placed the knives that were still in her hand back where she hides them in her robes. Katara kept her glare while Zuko actually looked apologetic. Mai let out a sigh. “Fine, I’m sorry. Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“Are you… okay, though? You can, y’know, tell me.”

“I just _said_ —”

“You owe him at least that after you nearly killed him.” Katara cut her off. Mai rolled her eyes.

“Is this about Suki again?” Zuko asked.

It sounded like an innocent question. It _was_ an innocent question, and Zuko’s tone indicated concern when he asked it. But then Mai rounded at him like she actually wanted to kill him this time.

“Stop it!” Katara shouted. She had one of her arms pushing Mai away from Zuko. “For La’s sake, calm down. Zuko just came here to talk to you about his plan after we talked to Keiko about it, not to get _murdered_.”

Mai backed away, still scowling at her friend. Zuko looked a little like a kicked polar dog puppy that for a second Katara wanted to hug him.

“What’s gotten into you?” Katara asked. She knew she was provoking more of her anger for asking but she had to settle this. It wouldn’t do to have someone like Mai—who had knives hidden in her person, and spirits only knew how many of those she had—walking about in a bad mood. “Zuko just asked you about Suki. What’s wrong with Suki?” Katara remembered seeing the two talking just this morning and Mai had looked far from murderous then.

“It’s none of your business.”

“You should just talk to Ty Lee,” Zuko said to her. “It’s really not what you think between them at all, if that’s what’s messing with your mood right now.”

“I know it isn’t, Zuko. It’s not _that_. I’m not…” Her words tapered off in a groan.

“Then maybe you should just talk to Suki? You wouldn’t know until you do.” Zuko shrugged.

“That’s rich coming from you. By the way, how’s it going with you and Sokka? Still haven’t done anything about it, have you?”

Zuko flushed as red as his tunic. Katara was in no way caught up with whatever’s going on with Mai’s situation, but this she knew about. Her brother and Zuko were just about the most transparent people she knew.

Katara couldn’t stop the smirk pulling at her mouth.

“Zuko, it’s been a _month_.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

As much as she would’ve enjoyed teasing Zuko a little more, his embarrassment was teetering close to anger. Dealing with one angry walking death machine was stressful enough, one angry walking fire hazard sounded like a nightmare.

“Okay, enough of that. How about we move on to more important things.”

“What? Like whatever’s going on with you and Yue?” said Zuko.

Her hand drifted to the cork sealing her waterskin closed, making sure it didn’t escape Zuko’s notice. “Just please tell Mai what you came here to tell her in the first place.”

They had a perfectly civil conversation after that. Though Katara’s temples started throbbing with the beginnings of a headache when she made her way back to the compound.

*****

“I did it!”

Yue wiggled her fingers and her smile grew as the granules of sand gave way to the motion. She grabbed a fistful and threw it in the air, inadvertently landing some of it on Sokka’s face.

“ _Pah_! Yue, I get how this is exciting, but can you not?”

“Sorry!”

Toph came to her side and inspected the sack, now filled beach sand instead of concrete. She nodded approvingly.

“Not bad, moon princess. How’d you do it?”

“I realized I was approaching it the wrong way,” she said. “Sand moves a lot differently than, let’s say, a rock. So I tried incorporating the technique I use in bending snow, only this time I was muting myself down because I’d been going about it like a hard-headed earthbender.”

“Still took you hours,” Toph pointed out, though she did look impressed.

Yue twirled her hand, a coil of sand rising out of the sack like a serpent. She clenched her fist and the sand compressed into a rock.

“Show off,” Sokka muttered under his breath. Yue giggled.

Toph settled down in front of her. “Now that that’s over with, it's serious talk time. I have something to tell you.”

“You have?” Sokka asked.

“I’m going with Sparky to find his not-dead sister.”

Sokka sat up and gaped at her. “You _are_?”

Yue studied Toph, looking for any sign that she was joking. None came.

She said, “I thought you hated travelling by sea?”

“Remember the Earth Rumble guys? Keiko found out that they’re in Gaoling now. There’s a big chance of them giving information about me to the governor to try getting out of jail, and that lousy old snooze is in Dad’s pocket.” She shrugged, trying to seem casual. “I can’t stay here for long. It was Suki’s idea, actually. She’s going too.”

“ _She is_?”

“Geez, calm your farts, fartface.”

Yue considered for a moment. “That means I’ll have to go with you.”

“Of course you are, Snowiness. You might think your hot stuff now because you picked up earthbending really fast, but your training is not done.”

“Being on a ship is not exactly conducive for earthbending, Toph,” Sokka told her. He ducked when Toph flung the rock that Yue made at his face.

“Suki told me a story once about Avatar Kyoshi bending the seafloor to take out pirate ships. Maybe we can try that?” Yue suggested.

“Yeah, no. Your stancework is still too twinkly to handle that much raw power.” She thought for moment. “That does sound cool, though. I could try that.”

After giving up on Pai Sho, Toph decided that a better way to kill the time was a few more hours of training. Yue didn’t complain, of course, even when she’d much rather go back to her meditation. It was time for supper when they finally got back to the compound. Yue decided to change out of her sweaty clothes before heading into the dining room.

The thing was, she hadn’t meant to climb up the stairs as soundlessly as a hunter trailing their prey. It was just a habit she’d acquired in the past month. The stairs and the floorboards creaked too loudly and it was instinct to be careful with her steps—a byproduct of her upbringing as a princess, really—so when she pushed open the door to the guest room to find Mai and Suki sitting on the floor and leaning close to each other, it was genuinely unintentional.

Yue wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it weren’t for two crucial things:

First, Yue somewhat _knew_ , because she had often found herself in the company of both Mai and Suki whenever sleep eluded the three of them, and it was always in that same spot by the plum tree. Yue saw the gradual change, how Suki always managed to find a way to get close to the other, how Mai seemed to grow more at ease.

Second, Suki practically flung herself backwards when Yue opened the door, leaving a deliberately wide gap between her and Mai.

After a drawn-out moment of the three of them just staring at each other, Suki finally cut through the silence. “Hi, Yue. You done training for the day?”

“Yes, I was just going to change before supper. I’m not exactly presentable.” She swept an arm around her dust-stained tunic.

Suki managed a chuckle. “Yeah. I guess I should go?”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s okay. I was about to leave anyway. I was going to,” she gestured vaguely, “you know, go and… clean my katana. Yes. I haven’t done that since…”

“Yesterday?” Mai folded her arms, a subtle smile on her lips.

Suki rolled her eyes at her. “Says the one who treats her knife set like her children.”

“You like my knives.”

“They’re great in a fight. But you’re like, far too attached to them, and I don’t just mean literally.”

Mai gave a half shrug. “They can’t annoy me.”

Suki’s laugh aired out the last vestiges of awkwardness from the room. She smiled at Mai and gave Yue a pat on the shoulder before stepping out. Her footsteps didn’t make a sound on the old creaky floor.

Yue looked at Mai with a questioning brow. “So…”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Mai drawled.

Yue had just changed into a fresh tunic when Ty Lee burst through the door. She went straight to her best friend and wrapped her up in a crushing hug.

“I swear I’m going to shove you so hard if you don’t let me go.”

Ty Lee pulled away but held on to Mai’s shoulders. She studied the other’s face, her eyes dancing around Mai’s features. “I can’t get a read on you right now. I just saw Suki storm out of the house. She was mumbling something about her katana? Anyway, I assumed—”

“ _Ty Lee_.”

“—that it didn’t go well so I went straight here. What happened?”

“We talked.”

“Yeah, duh. I mean what did she say?”

Yue cleared her throat.

“Yue!” Ty Lee said, a little startled. “I didn’t notice you there.”

She greeted Ty Lee and made idle talk before leaving the room. When she was about to go down the stairs, she heard the muffled sound of Ty Lee’s ringing laughter followed by an excited squeal.

*****

There was a spot along Kyoshi Island’s coast where some of the locals and a few thrill-seeking visitors went to for elephant koi riding. The Unagi steered clear of it for most of the time, but one could never be sure.

Yue didn’t head out here with Katara to tempt fate by riding peaceable creatures that the Unagi preyed on. The moon was full and neither of them could resist her call.

She peered down at Katara, who was sitting down on the sand with her legs stretched out, the waves lapping gently at her feet. They’d both shed their tunic dresses and breeches and were only in their undergarments, but what passed as evening chill here couldn’t manage to sink its teeth into their flesh. There were daughters of the poles, it would take a lot more to get them cold.

“I learned how to sandbend today,” Yue told her. She pressed her heel against the damp sand and a clump cropped out near her feet, right beside Katara’s thigh. There was no definite shape to it but Katara’s face lit up like it didn’t matter.

“That’s impressive.”

“It feels a little like bending snow. At least to me it does.”

Yue looked down at her creation. If she concentrated hard enough, maybe she could smoothen it over into a dome or straighten it into something like a cube. But Tui’s presence made her blood trill and Katara was right in front of her looking so beautiful. Focusing on bending sand was the least of her priorities. Under the pallid light of the moon, the grains of beach sand had a silver sheen to them, like the crushed remains of fallen stars. She left the misshapen clump as it was.

“We should go into the water,” she said to Katara. 

“Normally, I’d have to convince you.”

“Well, I _am_ the moon-blessed Avatar, and the moon is full, so.”

Katara chuckled and rose to her feet. 

They walked into the sea until the water came up close to their chests. Katara sank herself down, little bubbles coming up into the surface where her head had disappeared. A hand wrapped around Yue’s and before she knew it, she was dragged down. The water submerging her was dark and she couldn’t see Katara, but she could feel the other’s hand holding hers. They came up to the surface at the same time, giggling like children as they blinked away the water from their eyes.

The two of them played around like fledgling waterbenders. Katara was all aglow, her dark skin gleaming in the water, her lean arms swaying and arcing in the air to command the seawater in their vicinity like she was La herself. Time flowed on like that until the moon was past its peak. They eventually headed back to the shore, hand in hand, the wealth of power from Tui still rushing within both of them. 

Yue bent the dampness from her skin and cotton wraps. She looked to Katara, who was doing the same with her hair.

“Toph said she’s going with Zuko.”

Katara paused. “Really?”

“There’s a chance her parents learned about her being here in Kyoshi so she can’t stay for long.”

“I see.” Katara picked up her tunic dress and put it on. “How about you’re training?”

“Um, I told her that I wanted to go, too.”

“Oh?”

Yue put on her own tunic and breeches, avoiding Katara’s eyes. “I know you weren’t planning on following Zuko to look for his missing sister, but Toph is going with them now. We can bring clay bricks and discs and maybe a few rocks on the ship so we can train a little while at sea. And when we reach that—”

“Yue, it’s okay. I also want to go.” Katara brushed a finger to her cheek.

“Oh.”

“Besides, my brother is helpless without me.”

Yue’s laugh came out of her in a small puff of breath. 

*****

A week later, Keiko's friend arrived. The woman introduced herself as Narra, and despite her namesake Katara thought she looked every bit the person Keiko had described.

 _She’s someone who would much rather spend the rest of her life sailing than set foot on stable ground for long_ , Keiko had said. _You can trust her not to hand you over to the Fire Navy, but you still do have to pay for her services_.

Zuko had gold to spare, having brought some money with him when he and his friends made their escape with Sokka. 

One side of Narra’s head was shaved and etched with tattoos, the other was an ink spill of dark hair. She was the type of stunning that made you stop just for a moment to appreciate, with her dark skin and her pearly lopsided grin that drew your eyes to the small ring studded to her bottom lip.

Narra bowed first in front of Yue, bypassing everyone else, including Keiko. “Avatar Yue, you have no idea how pleased I was when my old friend here told me you were in need of my service! Truly, genuinely, pleased.”

Yue smiled at the woman. “I am glad. Though I’m only here to accompany my friend.”

“Ah, yes. The princeling.” Narra turned to Zuko, still grinning, but she dropped the smooth courtesy she showed to Yue. Narra sized him up. “So. You’re Ozai’s spawn. You’re shorter than I expected.” She wasn’t much taller than him.

“Narra,” Keiko muttered.

“I’m just getting to know my client, K. Relax.” She offered her hand to Zuko, who shook it with his brows puckered.

“Just to get this out of the way, Your Highness,” Narra said. “Your father has done a grave crime to me personally and I think he’s a sea slug that I’d very much want to crush with my boot until he’s nothing but a sludge of insides and crushed bones. You get me?”

Zuko looked stunned for a moment, but then he soon flashed her a smile. “We have that in common.”

“Now this is interesting. Keiko, you didn’t tell me you’ve been helping a usurper in the making.”

“I’m not—”

“No? That’s a shame. It’d be hilarious to watch Ozai get kicked out by his own teen rebel son.” 

“Can we see your ship now?” Sokka interrupted and rested a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, wisely spotting his growing unease. His father was never a pleasant topic for him.

“Oh, yes, that. Come along, then.”

Narra’s ship, the _Orca_ , was of relatively small size but ironclad and sturdy looking. Narra gave them a tour around, her crew greeting them as they passed by. The cabins could do with a bit more tidying up, but it would have to do. Narra could take them to the northern part of the Fire Islands discreetly and safely, which was their main priority.

It didn’t take long before everything was ready. After a couple of days, they set off.

Katara was standing on the deck with Suki. The ship’s waterbenders steered it faster and they watched as the view of Kyoshi Island grew smaller. Mai came to join them after a while, wordlessly taking her place beside Suki. Behind them she could hear Sokka and Toph bickering, Ty Lee and Yue’s giggles mingling in the breeze that it became harder to tell the two lilting sounds apart.

“I never thought I’d ever leave home.” Suki was gripping the railings so tightly that her knuckles were white.

She had felt something similar when she first left her village for Agna Qel’a, but she’d thought it would just be for some weeks, just a visit to their sister tribe.

Slender hands slowly eased Suki’s tight hold on the railings. “Don’t think about it too much. You can always come back.”

If she was trying to comfort Suki, Katara thought Mai’s approach needed a bit of work. But it seemed to be the exact thing Suki needed to hear. The glassiness in her eyes were smothered by her eye-wrinkling smile.

“Mai. Always so _practical_.”

“She’s right, though,” Katara said. “Your home isn’t going anywhere. You’ll always have something to return to.”

Katara said it with much certainty, because it wasn’t hard to see how Suki was loved and cared for. She was as sure of it as she was sure of the knowledge that Mom, Dad, Gran Gran and the whole village would always welcome her back.

The island was slowly disappearing and the sea stretched out around them, seemingly endless and overwhelming. But to Katara, the churning waters were heartening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (not to be dramatic but) ....and so it begins
> 
> comments are appreciated!


	5. ghosts

The _Orca_ was anchored and its sails were furled. Yue stood on the deck with Zuko and Narra, the three of them leaning against the gunwales. The breeze fluttered kisses on their cheeks.

“There you go, princeling,” said Narra, gesturing her pipe towards the high isle before them. “It doesn’t look like much, does it?”

They had navigated through Fire Nation waters without trouble. Narra was a rather illustrious sailor, one that even the Fire Navy knew enough not to be suspicious of, and her ship’s size made it inconsequential in their eyes. They caught word of the Fire Lord’s search for Zuko. The hefty price that was promised to anyone who brought him back unharmed should be reason enough for concern, but Narra hadn’t been kidding when she said she hated Fire Lord Ozai, although she never did say why.

“It’s not supposed to be much,” spoke Zuko.

“Well, it’s what you paid for.” Narra drew on her pipe. “No refunds if you find nothing there.”

Yue wouldn’t say _nothing_. Even from a distance, she could see deep blue giving way to a golden coast and wild, lush greens. Despite its untamed beauty, she couldn’t imagine any dwellings to exist in the island, but Zuko had told her about the ruins of an ancient city within. If there truly was nothing for them there but the bones of a wiped-out culture, perhaps seeing it himself would be a sort of healing for her friend, however painful it would be.

Zuko was only two years older than her, and he already had too many ghosts in his life. Sometimes she could see it in his face, in his eyes, that among their group he was the one who had endured the most loss. 

“Look!”

The shout had come from behind them.

It was one of the crew, a stout man who called himself Pebble, a jape he’d claimed once it stuck. Yue knew him for his easy smiles and booming laughter, but all of that had been stripped away from his face. He was pointing a timorous finger towards the sky, eyes wide as saucers.

Soon everyone was looking skywards, up to where he was pointing. When Yue did, the sun’s rays assaulted her vision, forcing her to shade her eyes. She adjusted to the light and saw it: a shadow, small yet growing, approaching them at great speed.

“A dragon!”

That word lit a blaze of commotion among the crew. Narra vaulted and left them where they stood. Yue could faintly make out her rattled orders and other voices coalescing into a cloud of noise, all surprise and panic, but her attention was entrapped. She kept gaping at the sky.

The dragon descended upon them, translucent wings stretched out and lancing at the air to keep its serpent-like form afloat in the air which floated like a water whip poised to slash the ship in half. The wind roared in her ears; the sails billowed in erratic ripples. Yue saw one of the crew falling on their knees as if in surrender, or paralyzed by awe. The dragon wasn’t as large as the ship, but it did not matter. This was a creature the world had thought extinct, a creature that had fallen into myth in some places. And yet.

It had scales like a thousand lightning tines gleaming in the sun, bluish-white spikes protruding from most of its body, but his mane was like a blanket of clouds.

Yue tore her gaze from the majestic creature to search for Katara. She found her near the mast, gripping it and her brother to steady the both of them as the _Orca_ shuddered.

“No, stop!” she heard Zuko yell.

One of the crewmen had a harpoon poised in his hand. He turned sharply to Zuko, his jaw working furiously. He shook his head and wound his arm back to throw the weapon. Yue watched in horror as it flew towards the dragon.

A flash of blue and the harpoon was swept out of the air. It fell back towards the man, who managed to flee out of the way as his assault backfired. The weapon was aflame.

The blow did not come from the dragon, whose jaws were still shut, hovering and peering down imperiously at them with eyes of burning gems. With a grand sweep of its wings, the creature backed away, the billowing wind making the ship lurch dangerously. A figure leapt from its back, propelled by flames— _blue_ flames, shooting out of the stranger’s feet—and landed in the middle of the deck in a graceful crouch.

The chaos dulled to a murmur as everyone stared at the person. Black hair, half tied atop her head in a tail and the rest falling freely down their back, gold bands adorning one arm. Their feet were steaming against the planks.

The stranger rose. “Would anyone be so kind as to point me to whoever’s in charge? Or do I have to fight all of you at once first?”

Sharp, calcined voice. It sliced through the nervous hum like the crackling of embers in the night.

“…Azula?”

Power radiated off of the stranger in waves, palpable as heat from a dozen wood-burning hearths. It seeped through Yue’s pores, sun-warm and teetering to a pleasant sting. She was so overcome by it that the realization didn’t hit her until Zuko took a step forward and spoke again.

“It’s really you.”

 _Azula_. The princess. Zuko’s sister.

She heard a chocked sob. Ty Lee crossed the deck and launched herself into the princess, hugging her tightly from behind.

*****

Azula twisted away from her assailant’s grip, tensing herself for a fight. She faltered when she saw who it was, recognizing her in an instant, the same as she did her brother. It was impossible not to.

Neither of them moved. Ty Lee’s face was a portrait of surprised glee, but something in Azula’s face slowly seeped away the light from her eyes, supplanting it with fear. It startled her, that look. She couldn’t remember the last time someone blanching in horror under her gaze.

Intimidation didn’t work among the tribespeople; it was the sort of thing that would get her laughed at if she tried it, and she had tried, more than once, had learned her lesson after each attempt. Intimidation was something they reserved for their enemies and for outsiders who had no business being near the tribe.

But wasn’t that what Ty Lee was? One more outsider amongst a ship full of others?

She made a sharp movement with her arm, alerting Lan that there was no danger for now. He surged, sending another gust of wind against the ship’s sails, and began swooping in circles above the ship. His eyes would be on her the entire time, ready to strike if she gave the signal.

“That's it.” Azula turned and saw a woman marching towards her. Her questioning eyes reminded her a little of Ome. “Listen, girl. I don’t know what or who you’re supposed to be, but you’re on my ship. And I don’t appreciate being—”

“For someone whose ship is being circled by a dragon, you sure are bold.”

The woman lifted an eyebrow, taking the threat in stride. “We have weapons, kid. And your little pet doesn’t look fully grown.”

“That won’t make much of a difference, I assure you.”

“Azula,” she heard her brother say again.

She balled her hands into fists before turning to him, her smile taut. “Dear Zuzu, what a surprise. I’d assume that the Fire Lord had sent you here, but surely he would’ve put you on an armed royal sloop instead of,” she swept her arm around her, “whatever this is.”

His look of utter astonishment roiled into confusion. Zuko stammered something she couldn't hear, but then he quickly shut his lips and went back to just staring at her.

A boisterous laugh pulled her eyes to her left. It came from a child who was holding on to another girl’s arm. “ _Zuzu_. Ha!”

“Toph,” a voice hissed. She was about to turn away when her eyes fell on its owner.

She had that same detached yet piercing expression on her face, as painfully familiar as Ty Lee’s wide, bright eyes. She was gripping a small three-pronged blade in one hand.

This ship was a trap, one with ghosts coming to haunt her. If Ozai somehow appeared, a nightmare wrought in flesh, she would make Lan scorch this whole ship.

Even from several feet above, Lan could sense her growing distress. He let out a warning growl like volcano’s breath, his blue-gray underbelly aglow. She looked up at him and hummed, a pale imitation of his deep rumble. His sharp ears caught the sound. The glowing ceased.

Zuko seemed to have recovered from his bout of thunderstruck confusion.

“Narra, it’s all right. She won’t – she’s not...”

“I’m his sister, is what Zuzu’s trying to say.”

The captain shifted her eyes between the two of them.

She pointed a finger at Azula. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“That is the question, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be nothing but bones lost in the depths of the mighty ocean.” She turned her whetted gaze at Zuko. A sealed wound had been prodded open, festering inside of her and spreading like a rot. There was nothing else she could do but erect her old defenses, the ones she'd left blunted and unused but were still able to cut. “Unlucky for you, I’m not yet dead. You can tell Ozai if you want, brother. You’re his favorite now, aren’t you? Not like he’s left with any other option but the lesser child.”

“I didn’t come here for our father—”

“Do not call him that in front of me!”

The small crowd bristled when she snapped, and like being doused with cold water Azula was reminded of the fact that they had an audience. The quarrelling of siblings was not meant for these strangers’ entertainment.

She straightened her spine—Ome would be proud of her restraint if she saw her now—and schooled her features into rigid calmness as she regarded both Zuko and the captain again.

“What is your business in coming here?” They were lucky. Under normal circumstances, she would have threatened them with death by dragon’s fire to make them cooperate, and she’d take them back to the tribe for the chief to deal with. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders.”

The captain snorted. “Seriously? We get accosted by a lost princess with a dragon because we got too close to your island? It’s not even found in most maps!”

“Narra, please.”

“Oh, don’t give me that princeling. You brought me in this mess.” She fished out a pipe from her pocket and waggled it angrily at Zuko. “You’re not out of the hook yet. You and I are going to have a talk later.”

Zuko sighed. “I didn’t know this would happen. I swear. I’ll explain everything.”

“Which would have to wait, I’m afraid,” Azula cut in. “All of you will have to go with me.”

“Why should we do that?” asked the captain. “Even if you truly are the dead princess, I don’t answer to Fire Nation royalty.”

“And yet you’re here doing my brother’s bidding.”

The captain merely shrugged. “The princeling doesn’t answer to Ozai either. And he gave me a fat load of money for the trouble.”

“What does she mean you don’t answer to Ozai?” Azula threw the question at Zuko. Had the Fire Lord gone mad with paranoia and tried killing his remaining heir? If it was true, it would explain his peasant’s clothes and this grimy ship.

“I ran away. He sent me to Agna Qel’a and I snuck on another ship.”

“Why on Roku’s hideous beard would you do that?” She was aware how dumb Zuko could be, but this was ludicrous. Why would he ever impose banishment on himself?

But she did have an inkling as to why. Zuzu had always been soft. Being Mother’s favorite made him pliable and overly righteous. If he knew just how deep Ozai’s darkness ran, how wicked his ambitions truly were, he’d definitely leave.

“I left to search for you.”

Now _that_ she didn't expect.

“Azula.” A softer voice said from behind her. Ty Lee hadn’t left her spot. “We were looking for you. We wanted to find you. That’s why we came here.”

Zuko stepped closer. He held out a small leather-bound book. “I found out that you were alive after reading Uncle’s journal. He was supposed to be the one to look for you, but I had to do it myself when…” His throat bobbed. Azula knew right away before his next words left his mouth. “…Uncle died. The Fire Lord poisoned him.”

“He killed Uncle Fatso?”

Zuko’s eyes flared. “He’s dead, Azula. I know you were never fond of him but at least show him some respect.”

Azula swallowed her retort. “How did he know I was alive? That I was here?”

It was impossible. She and Rikai had cut ties with the Fire Nation after the incident. Unless…

No. Rikai would not betray Azula like that.

“Tell me how he found out,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“I– I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I did find you. Mai and Ty Lee helped.”

So her brother had also laid claim to her old friends after she’d been disposed of. How lovely a thought.

She smiled with all the bitterness in her chest. “How pleasant an adventure you three must have gone on. You know, I was supposed to head to the north myself to meet the Avatar, before Ozai decided to be rid of me. Did Uncle write that in his little diary, too?”

“Actually… she’s here.”

“What?”

“The Avatar. Our friend, Yue,” Ty Lee said. She motioned with her hand towards a girl Azula hadn’t noticed before. To be fair, it was hard to pay attention to strangers when her brother and her old friends had suddenly turned up.

She knew the Avatar was a water tribe girl the same age as Azula. She had never met her in the flesh. But she had _seen_ her before—as foolish as it sounded to her, she couldn’t deny it—although her eyes were glowing those first few times, and Azula had thought of her then as nothing but a phantasm from her strange recurring dreams.

But that wasn’t the only thing that unnerved her about the Avatar. There was an odd whirring in Azula the moment she locked eyes with her and it seemed to grow when the Avatar took a step forward. From the look in the girl’s face, she sensed it too.

Azula hated this, like being thrown out of balance without something to cling to. She heard Lan grumble again, louder this time, but she didn’t even have the energy to reassure him. Her brother’s presence had been enough to throw her off, but this weird hubbub within her, concentrated in her belly where her well of chi was housed, was something so out of her control that she panicked. Sparks emitted from her fingers involuntarily and she looked away from the white-haired Avatar to stare at them.

Zuko said something, but her ears were drowning in noises she was certain only she could hear, like flint and steel being scraped over and over again without the release of a spark.

A hand gently wound around her right arm, another one landing on her shoulder. The contact grounded her, tipping her world back to balance; the raging waned into controlled chaos. She took a deep breath, focusing fiercely on what was in front of her: the Avatar, astonishment painted across her comely face like the early pinpricks of light foretokening the sun’s rise. Beside her was another, a stranger with blue eyes, and the moment Azula glanced at her she could hear a song of crashing waves and fizzing surf briefly cresting over the din in her ears then leaving it clear of anything but the sounds of the here and now: the creak of the ship, the flap of the sails, the pair of breaths and heartbeats near her, intermingling with her own.

They looked up as Lan’s roar ignited the air like a glorious herald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if you found that last part weird, don't worry cause the next chapters will clear things up)
> 
> thanks for reading and sticking with this fic up to this point! i hope azula and the team finally meeting was satisfying to read as it was for me to write. i'm grateful for all the comments and the kudos <33


	6. interlude

Jinora was decidedly not an errand girl for the Northern Sages. She just happened to arrive while they were in the midst of a crisis.

Well, calling it a _crisis_ would be an overstatement, but they were treating it like one.

The Avatar had run off, which should be concerning, but she apparently sought permission from her father, who was also the chief, before she boarded one of the ships of the southern tribe delegation, which should clear things up enough as far as Jinora was concerned. Chief Arnook had put his foot down on the matter. He would not revert his decision to allow his daughter to travel and that was that.

Avatar Yue was the same age as Jinora. If anyone were to ask her opinion, she’d say they should let the Avatar travel with her chosen companions if that was what she wished to do. Grandpa Aang had done the same during his time. That was how he met King Bumi, Master Hama, Master Kuzon, and, of course, Grandpa Teo. It was the way of things.

No one would ask her opinion here. They had something else to ask of her.

Jinora was possessed of a uniquely strong connection with the spirits. She could enter their realm as easily as she could breathe, commune with them even in the physical world, and was so far the only one among her people to be able to perform a successful spiritual projection. She’d been journeying by herself for the past year to learn more about her abilities, had visited the other Air Temples, the Bhanti Tribe, and she’d even helped a few villages make peace with spirits along the way. Her visit in the North Pole was supposed to be an educational one.

The Northern Sages had a different idea, though. Chief Arnook forbade any ship in his fleet to go after Avatar Yue, so the sages grew desperate enough to seek _her_ help: they wanted her to relay a message to the Avatar through spiritual projection.

Jinora would’ve declined right away. Like she said, she was no errand girl of theirs. But then they dangled the opportunity to visit the Spirit Oasis like a prize. Her curiosity, in the end, got the best of her. Ikki would laugh if she were here.

That was how she ended up in the Spirit Oasis, the home of Tui and La’s physical forms, a place with such a strong spiritual energy that Jinora felt as if she was swimming in it.

After taking in her surroundings for a while, marveling at the miracle of this garden, she took up place near the pond, cross-legged against yielding grass.

The moment her fists touched and her eyes closed, a great power took hold of her consciousness and she was—

—she had no idea where she was.

All she could see was an ether of deep blue and cyan, nebulous and eddying like water suspended in air. Despite the strangeness and the insurmountable spiritual presence, there was a calmness that blanketed her mind. She felt buoyant, and all her half-formed panic oozing out, allowing powers beyond her imagination to crest her away to wherever they wanted to take her.

 **_Child, tell me what brought you here_ ** **.**

Jinora, so distracted by the unnatural tranquility that came upon here, nearly forgot the reason she came to the Spirit Oasis.

 _I was asked to do something_ , she thought. And the voice heard. A spirit, she realized belatedly. A powerful spirit who spoke _inside_ her mind with a voice like tidal waves and river flows.

 ** _Clever, are you?_** She heard the moment it dawned on her. **_I know you were trying reach out to my lover’s daughter at the behest of those who wish to hold her back._**

La sensed her confusion.

**_I shall tell you a story…_ **

*****

_There are three things in your world that remain unconquerable: the sun, the ocean, and the moon._

_Since time immemorial, even before the Avatar became the bridge between the realms of humans and spirits, three great spirts have been vital in the balance of all things so life may flourish in your realm._

_The Sun gave birth to flame and heat. It is She who makes growing things bloom, makes them reach out towards the skies. She is the giver of life and warmth, energy and strength. But she is rarely merciful to those who wish to corrupt her gifts._

_The Moon is gentler than her sister, but just as mighty and stalwart. She glows when the Sun takes her rest so darkness could never truly devour the world whole. Waves bow to my lover as much they do to me._

_But water is what sustains life, and water is my domain. It is I who all the rivers flowed towards; whose depths hold a power that could unmake the world._

_We were drawn to humans—fickle creatures with fickle loyalties—and despite your failings, we have remained constant and faithful in our role in keeping your world’s balance. And between millennia, three mortals would capture our attention, reinvigorate our unconditional dedication to these beings, and we would come to love them as our daughters._

_Every firebender is born with a wisp of flame inside of them, but Azula was born with a fierce blaze within her, and she learned to control and harness it in time, a girl of iron will and precision. The Sun was enamored. She shines brighter with each feat her tenacious daughter reaches._

_Katara was born when the sea nearly spilled over and drowned her home, but I heard her first cries and felt the way her spirit sang the song of the waves even as a newborn babe. I spared the village and watched my persistent daughter grow, reaching and longing and striving._

_The Moon became Yue’s mother before she was even born, after the woman who bore the child granted her the right—and even then She could sense the gentle strength within Yue, a basin of clear water reflecting her light. When she was born, Raava had chosen her. My lover swore to guide Yue as she faces whatever darkness threatened to overpower her glowing child._

_Thus, our daughters were blessed, but their strengths are their own. We could not meddle with the affairs of mortals, it is not our place, but our daughters can. And they will walk the earth and usher in a new age in lieu of their mothers._

_Our daughters have found each other at last. This is fated. Their choices from here on shall define the era to come, and their path will be riddled with adversaries seeking to lead mortals astray. And you, dear child, will have to make a choice of your own._

*****

An island, verdant and wild, sand like tiny pellets of gold. Was she flying? She couldn’t feel anything, only _see_ things. A city appeared below her, or at least it had once been a city. Now, it looked abandoned, vines creeping into stone structures with architecture unfamiliar to Jinora’s eyes. She wanted to go down and see more of it, but she kept going, moving deeper into the island. She flew over trees, over rough-hewn peaks which sloped down into flat land. There were houses, plenty of them, and there were people too. People huddled around a dragon. A _dragon_. Jinora began to descend towards the small crowd and when she got close enough, her eyes found them, drawn like magnet on steel. White, dark brown, and jet black. Indigo, blue, and red. La whispered in her mind again, telling her who these three were, where this place was, what she can choose to do.

Jinora awoke in a gasp. She inhaled like she’d been deprived of air her whole life and was only getting a taste of it, like surfacing from deep waters.

La told her she had a _choice_ to make.

Rising to her feet, she stepped towards the pond and looked at the two koi fish swimming in their perpetual circle. She gave the Moon and the Ocean spirits a deep bow, murmuring her thanks. Then, wiping the dew of sweat above her lip, she started to think.

It would be easy to make up some story to tell the Northern Sages: she couldn’t speak to the Avatar, the Avatar had sealed herself off from spiritual interference, she didn’t recognize the place where the Avatar was. Lying was something she tried not to resort to, but it had to be done. La had been firm.

All her training and studying, her peerless skills, it would all come to real use.

She left the Oasis and put on a calm face so the sages would buy the falsehoods she was about to tell them. After that was done with, it would take her less than an hour to pack her things again and get on Pepper. 

For once, she didn’t regret having to leave a place before getting to peruse its trove of knowledge. She’d already learned more in one day than she did in her year of travelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, jinora exists in this au. i couldn't think of anyone better to be the airbender of yue's team. (also this au is mainly for my own enjoyment and i make the rules lmao) 
> 
> please let me know what you think and if you any questions. your comments mean the world <3


	7. meetings and reunions

Rikai had spent an entire half of her day helping Prince Zuko as he made his case to the chief, diverting the attention of his council whenever Ham Ghao butted in with his needless input. As she made her way home, she was looking forward to a few minutes of rest.

That was quashed the moment she found Ome and Azula arguing.

“—disregard for yourself! What if they attacked you?”

“You think I didn’t know what I was doing? I had it under control!”

Rikai held them both by the shoulder. “Calm down.”

“You try talking some sense into her. I’m going to help deal with the outsiders.” Ome sent Azula one last withering glare then rushed off.

Azula’s scowl deepened. “You’re going to berate me for doing my job, too?”

“She was just worried, Azula.”

“She’s being absurd.”

Rikai sighed and led her back to their hut. When her irritation at being told off by Ome winded down, Rikai saw the obscure cast in her eyes creep back, the same one Rikai had seen when she’d arrived with Prince Zuko and several others in tow.

“What does the chief intend to do with them?” Azula asked after they’d sat down.

“They want the sailors to take the Fire Oath, but they’re understandably wary of that. The captain is trying to negotiate other options,” she said. “But I vouched for your brother and his companions. They’ll be fine.”

“And the Avatar?”

“She and the waterbender are playing with Lan. I think it spooked everyone to see him act so… tender. He’s never like that to anyone except you.” She shook her head bemusedly. “He snarls when someone so much as glares at those two.”

Azula looked out the window. She was not so often transparent with her emotions, but Rikai could always somehow pick out a few tells. That wasn’t the case this time. It was the other thing that bewildered her. Azula was flanked by Avatar Yue and the waterbender when they arrived, and she had talked to them instead of the brother she hadn’t seen in years. Rikai didn’t dare ask why—Azula was in a fragile place right now. Rikai was walking on eggshells just talking to her.

“Uncle knew the two of us are still alive,” Azula murmured, turning to face her again. “That’s how Zuko found me.”

She nodded. “I talked to him.”

They fell silent. She fought the urge to tell her all about what her conversation with Zuko entailed, about his journey and seeking help from Keiko— _Keiko_ , family in all but name; Rikai missed her terribly.

Azula was tapping a finger against an empty teacup. “I have some questions, Rikai,” she said, “but I’m not going to ask them. I won’t resort to that. If there’s some truth you’re hiding from me, I won’t wheedle it out of you.”

Rikai knew an ultimatum when she heard one. It was nothing short of a miracle that Azula hadn’t tried to squeeze this out of her before, that she was able to keep this close to her chest for so long. But cutting off from the rest of the world also meant forsaking her ties with the White Lotus, or at least Rikai thought so.

She took a deep breath.

“The Fire Sage who sent me the letter that night… he didn’t have the resources to find out something only Ozai’s innermost circle would know. His investigation took him to the only person who could, one who was enough of a rogue in court to leak out plans of assassinating another royal.”

“Uncle.” There was not a spark of surprise in Azula. “Does this have something to do with you and your little poetic codes?”

She nodded. Rikai knew just how astute Azula’s mind worked, but it still amazed her sometimes.

“And is Uncle aware of your little poetic espionage?”

“We answered to him. He’s one of our superiors.” There was no point in hiding this now. Iroh was dead.

“I suppose his kookiness was just a facade, then.”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t really know him well.”

Azula leaned so she could look at Rikai closer in the eye, the legs of her wooden chair groaning against the strain. “He told you to save me from that ship.”

“He didn’t have to,” Rikai said right away, firm enough to leave no chance for doubt. She looked right back at Azula’s eyes, willing her to understand that everything she’d done that night and the years that followed, she did on her own free will. That even though they never spoke of such things out loud, Rikai had come to care for Azula like she was her own flesh and blood. That she was a thorn in her side she’d never pluck out.

She didn’t realize there were tears in her eyes until she felt wetness streak her cheeks. Azula's frown shattered into startled concern. Rikai never cried.

Warm fingers methodically wiped the tears from her face.

“I never thanked you.”

Rikai rolled her eyes _. I’d be shocked if you did_ , it said.

Azula’s small snort set them both off, laughter righting their precariously balanced lives after being abruptly tilted. Rikai would have to disturb it again and hated it, hated how their past was finally catching up to them.

But there was no way to skirt around this anymore.

“There’s something else we should talk about.”

Azula sighed. “We don’t have to talk about him.”

“He killed Iroh, Azula,” she said. “If he was willing to risk the ire of his brother’s allies, it can only mean that he’d amassed enough support by now, or enough forces that the nobility’s approval hardly mattered. And it’s drawing near. We both know it is.”

Ozai’s long-planned conquest. The comet. The invasion.

One of the uglier truths she watched Azula grapple with was the dark underbelly of Fire Nation ideals. Ome had called it cruelty masquerading as honor and conquest. Ozai was a manifestation of it, and Azula had almost been one herself.

But the Azula in front of her now only sat still, staring hard at the ground.

“If Ozai so much as breathed the air in this place I’d make Lan tear him to shreds before I burn the rest. I won’t let him lay a finger on the tribe,” Azula said, her jaw tensing. “But it won’t happen. He doesn’t know the tribe even exists.”

 _But the rest of the world will burn_ , Rikai thought but didn't say aloud. She didn't have to.

And Rikai was in no place to spew righteous drivel when she herself had abandoned all her old duties to build a new life with Azula. With _Ome_. A peaceful and pleasant one, far away and shielded by a lie.

Rikai bit back her words and told Azula to fetch her new friends.

*****

Gaining a dragon’s favor was never in Katara’s list of possible things when she had set out on her journey with Yue.

Azula had called him _Lan_ and the name flowed easily on Katara’s tongue. She and Yue were curled up against Lan’s fur-like mane, which smelled of charred air and felt as warm as a heated blanket. His body had coiled around them protectively. They were waiting for Zuko and the others while they talked with the tribe’s chief and elders. Katara and Yue were supposed to be there, but Lan bared his teeth when a Sun Warrior tried to usher them inside the tribe’s meeting hall. The people of this hidden tribe were just as baffled as they were by the dragon’s behavior, but Azula didn’t seem to be—or, at least, she didn’t question it.

A child of the South Pole would know better than anyone how vital heat and flame were for survival. Back on the ship, flashes of warmth, of huddling near a fire as a snowstorm raged outside their shelter, came over her like the flick of a cat’s tail on her skin. If there was such a flame that Katara could touch without burning herself, it would feel the same as when saw Azula.

It began as a hum and flicker, but when the steady warmth rose to a blaze the moment the princess caught Yue’s gaze, some primordial instinct pushed Katara forward the same time Yue did. It was like when she first met Yue all over again, Azula's scorching presence a piece she hadn’t known was lacking.

She would think she was going _insane_ if it weren’t for how both Yue and Azula were acting.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?”

She drew her eyes back to Yue.

“What is?”

Her voice was soft when she said, “I feel like… Azula and Lan and,” she twirled her fingers in a vague gesture, “all of it feels natural. Like we were supposed to find this place. But I’m even more confused now than I was yesterday.”

Katara hummed. Unsure of how to phrase her thoughts, she settled on gently brushing away the pale strands of her hair that had fallen on Yue’s face.

“You two look cozy.”

Lan’s head snapped up in attention, forcing Katara and Yue back on their feet. Azula stood with her arms crossed, smirking slightly. “Lan, stop coddling them.”

The dragon slowly sat up on his legs, uncurling his lissome body. The sun was beginning to set and its brightly-hued rays cast an iridescent glow on his cobalt blue scales. He had whiskers that made him look wizened and ancient. Azula rubbed the underside of the dragon’s jaw, making him puff smoke from his nose and start kicking one of his back limbs. Not so much of an ancient and all-knowing being, then. 

“Come with me.” Azula turned and began to walk. “You have to eat something before we accidentally starve the Avatar and her companion under our watch. The others will be fed while they still discuss what to do with those sailors.”

“Aren’t you supposed to help your brother in there?” Katara said even as she let Yue pull her forward to follow Azula.

“They’re fine. Rikai already stuck her neck out for them. And as for you,” she looked over her shoulder and cocked her head upwards where Lan was flying low, “Lan has made certain you are honored guests of the tribe, and no one doubts a dragon’s judgement around here.”

Aside from drawing amused looks and a few people greeting Azula, none of the other Sun Warrior tribespeople bothered them as they strode past homes. Katara couldn’t complain about the drawn-out negotiation going on. These people had laws, and it was reasonable for the remaining descendants of a wiped-out civilization to be fiercely protective of their land.

Azula led them to a hut where the woman named Rikai waited for them. Food was laid out in a table inside: two wooden bowls of stewed game and some flatbread. The dish was richly flavored and heavily spiced; Katara ate it with the flatbread to balance out the heat. Azula hadn’t gone inside, but Rikai sat with them on the table as they ate.

“Lan has taken a shine to you,” the woman said. Her tone was light, as if dragons taking a sudden and deep liking to Katara and Yue was fodder for idle talk.

Katara shrugged after she’d swallowed her mouthful. “I’m just as surprised as you probably are.”

“I admit, I’m a little puzzled by it.”

“He’s lovely,” Yue said warmly, drawing a smile from Rikai. “Fearsome, of course, but he’s been very sweet to us.”

While they ate, Rikai told them about how her appeal to grant refuge to the others went and explained why it was taking longer with Narra and her crew.

When they were finished with their meal, Rikai’s expression turned serious. Keiko had told them that Rikai was a very distant relative, and their familial ties were not because of a shared bloodline, but Katara was certain she’d seen that very same look on Keiko’s face before—all business and unflinching veneer.

“I don’t know why the Avatar and a girl from the water tribe are travelling around with Prince Zuko,” Rikai finally said, “and I don’t know why Azula seems to be…” She trailed off, but Katara knew what she meant. “I don’t understand everything, and I don’t assume either of you do. But I think you were meant to find Azula.”

Yue gave a slight nod. “I… believe so, too. We didn’t realize it until – well, until we met her really.”

Rikai turned her gaze outside. Katara had a feeling that the woman knew something she wasn’t telling them, but her suspicion was quieted when she said, “You should talk to Azula. Perhaps she can make it all clearer for you.”

*****

Azula didn’t move or say anything when she heard them emerge from the hut, not even when they came to sit beside her on the wooden blocks, the ones that Ome would stack up for Azula to balance on during training.

The whirring was a calm murmur now, but still new and strange and mystifying.

She conjured a lick of flame in her palm. Its core was pure white, spreading out into sharp blue—the rarest shade of flame that a firebender could muster. She had a rainbow of others within her, something Ran and Shaw had taught her after she presented them a flicker of eternal flame and judged her worthy of their secrets, but Azula always favored blue. She once thought the preference was motivated by vanity, but then prettier hues existed. Truth was, she liked the way blue implied coldness, yet it could sear through almost anything it touched. She also liked how blue flames were something she had earned by her own deeds, a testament that her hours upon hours of perfecting herself had not amounted to nothing. Blue meant it was _hers_.

The Avatar’s voice wrenched her from her thoughts. “We were supposed to meet all those years ago.”

A retort sat right at the edge of her tongue, but something prevented her from saying it. Instead, she gave the Avatar a nod. She looked too sweet, too gentle to be the destined protector of the world, but Azula couldn’t deny the power she held. And it would be folly to immediately assume weakness on someone because of how they looked. She knew better now than to think that.

“Rikai suggested we should talk to you,” the waterbender said. “She said it would help make sense of… _this_.” She gesticulated with her hand. Azula would poke fun at her eloquence if she also didn’t find herself at a loss for words to describe it.

The waterbender— _Katara_ , she should try getting used to their names now—was a tidal wave distilled into flesh and bone. Deep blue eyes, firm voice and an even firmer gaze. After the first time she had looked at the other girl in the eye, the phantom scent of petrichor lingered for a moment in her nose.

Perhaps it was the newness that made all these things potent. Yue and Katara were attached to the hip and they didn’t seem overwhelmed by invisible energies or senses making them feel what wasn’t there.

Azula told them, as succinctly as she could, about the prophecy that brought her where she was in the first place, the strange dreams she started getting when she turned fifteen, and bit back her own discomfort to tell them about Ozai. The entire time, Yue and Katara listened with rapt attention.

“When is this Great Comet going to arrive?” Katara asked as soon she was done. Azula was pleased that she focused on that, dove right into cold fact. She was impressed despite how unpalatable the subject was to her.

“It’s supposed to appear once in every century,” she explained. “By our estimate, it’ll pass through our skies by the end of summer next year.”

“Are you sure?” the Avatar asked. Her voice held the slightest shake and her hold on Katara’s hand was tight. Despite the signs of fear, determination flared in her eyes.

“We based it on authentic historical records. The likelihood of it being wrong is close to none.”

“Does Zuko know?”

Azula shrugged with a dry smile. “The Fire Lord never told him anything of value when I was still living with them. I doubt that changed by the time I was gone. Only way he could’ve known was if Uncle had told him.”

“That explains all of this, doesn’t it?” Katara said. “The spirits willed for us to find you so you can tell us about this, so we can stop your father from—”

“Please,” she gritted out, “ _never_ call him that.”

“Hey, guys!”

They turned at the sound to find Ome, herding exhausted outsiders with the staunch expression of someone who had done this before. Ty Lee was the one who had called out, her hand raised in a wave.

Katara stood up to meet them. She and Yue followed. “How did it go? And where’s Narra?”

“The sailors agreed to take a Fire Oath of secrecy. In exchange for the chief permitting them to leave the tribe when they wish to,” said Ome. She’d put on what Rikai teasingly called her _diplomat voice_. “The chief will be the one to provide them accommodations, as an act of goodwill.”

“What’s a Fire Oath?” Yue asked Azula.

“They’ll swear on something while their hands are held over the Eternal Flame. If they lie by not intending to keep to their oath or if the flame senses ill intent, it will surge and scorch their hand in a blink, or their entire arm. Depends on the severity of their deception, really.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“…Oh.”

“Well, that’s handy,” said the water tribe boy, an obnoxious grin growing on his face. “Get it? _Hand_ y? Come on, that was a good one!”

Zuko looked as if he was valiantly fighting his own smile from pulling at his mouth and failed. Interesting.

Ome turned to her. Her anger from earlier seemed to have dissipated, and Azula’s urge to throttle her seemed to have run its course and replaced with her default amount of annoyance. Azula raised an eyebrow at her and smirked.

“They’re making you watch after outsiders again?”

Ome rolled her eyes at her. “Stop or I _will_ kick you out of your own house and make you sleep outside.”

“About that,” one of the girls chimed in, “where are we supposed to stay for the night?”

“Come on, Suki. We can set up camp anywhere!” The earthbender child slapped her bare foot against the ground. Two slabs of earth rose to form a rugged dirt tent.

“I am _not_ sleeping in one of those,” Mai said it in her familiar deadpan, wrinkling her nose. A snort nearly escaped from Azula.

“You won’t have to.” Ome pointed to the other hut some twenty paces from the one Azula and Rikai shared. It was technically Ome’s, but she was practically living with them now. “You can stay there. Two rooms, one cot in each. You figure out how to fit yourselves in there and don’t ask me to tidy it up for you. I don’t care if one of you is royalty from where you came from.” She threw a glance at Zuko.

Ome had been slightly more accommodating when Azula was in their place, but she had Rikai to thank for that. Ome had been hopelessly whipped from the start.

*****

Zuko and Mai and Ty Lee coming back to her life forced an answer to a question she’d been wrestling and avoiding in equal measures, of who and what she was: a girl forged in hellfire then flung into the sun. An inheritor of ancestral sins, but was embraced by the tribe in spite of it. A descendant of the Fire Lord who made a sport of culling dragons, but was now the companion of one. She was neither a Sun Warrior nor a princess. She was, Azula realized, a girl suspended in the middle, something yet to be defined.

It wasn’t too terrible a fate, considering the alternative.

If Ozai hadn’t gotten rid of her, if Azula hadn’t washed up on these shores on a rowing boat, if she had not been forced to let go of her old life… The thought didn’t terrify her so much as it filled her with a deep sadness that she didn’t know what to do with.

“You’re brooding. I thought that was something only Zuko did.”

Azula looked over her shoulder to find Mai, Ty Lee following right behind her. It was rather late and she would rather talk to an iguana seal than the two of them right now.

Ty Lee smiled at her, a little hesitant and awfully earnest. Her eyes shimmered in the multicolored flame Azula had made. Her old friend glanced to her right where Lan was dozing, and she seemed endeared by his snores.

Azula sighed resignedly and beckoned them over.

“Presumed death changes you, Mai. I’ve picked up new habits now that I’m a dead princess.”

Mai smiled a little, while Ty Lee’s face screwed up in a displeased frown.

“For the record,” said Mai as she took her place on one of the wooden blocks, “Ty Lee and Zuko talked me into this.”

When she caught Ty Lee’s attempt to inconspicuously pinch Mai in the arm, it nearly hurt trying to stop herself from smiling.

“I think you drove him off,” Ty Lee said. “He said he’s giving you space for now.”

Right. Azula probably shouldn’t have raised her voice at him during supper. But surely no one expected her to hold a conversation with someone who kept looking at her all guilty and miserable. “I don’t need his unwarranted pity.”

“I figured as much,” Mai said. She flipped one of her knives in her hand. That almost made her smile again. Azula had been the one to demand that her friends take fighting lessons, and their parents had begrudgingly obliged. Highborn nonbender girls weren’t supposed to learn how to fight. They weren’t at war. At least not yet.

Ty Lee was staring at the fire, the colors dancing across her soft features. “How’d you make your fire do that?”

“Trade secrets, Ty Lee. I’m afraid I can’t divulge them.”

“That’s okay.” Ty Lee shrugged. “I don’t really need to know about firebending magic tricks anyway.”

“It’s not a magic trick,” she said with a scoff. “It’s a very ancient art, learned only from the most ancient and wisest firebending masters.”

“Really?”

“Of course. They—” She paused, squinting at Ty Lee’s overly innocent face. “I know what you’re doing.”

Mai let out a sharp breath like a snort. Azula shot her a glare as Ty Lee dissolved into giggles.

Sprits damn her, she’d missed them. It was pointless to try denying that.

“Fine. You got me. Forgive a dead girl for losing her touch.”

Ty Lee’s glee dropped from her face so quickly like a blown-out candle. Her morbid humor amused Mai though, much to Ty Lee’s clear consternation.

One more couldn’t hurt:

“So, it took me dying for the two of you to buddy up with Zuzu.”

Silence. That one fell flat, then. Oops.

Mai was frowning. “We didn’t _buddy up_ with your brother, Azula.”

“He was left alone with the Fire Lord and had no friends,” Ty Lee added. “He had your Uncle but he wasn’t always around.”

“It was out of pity? That’s pathetic.”

Mai shoved her knife back inside her sleeve. “And here I thought you aren’t as callous as you were when you were eleven.”

“Mai.” Ty Lee sounded almost pleading.

“Zuko is really _trying_ , Azula. I understand that what you went through couldn’t have been easy, but can you at least not take it out on him?”

Mai hadn’t even glanced at her when she spoke, but it still felt like being slapped across the face.

When she looked at Zuko, she could see Mother’s dismay, Father’s disapproval, and she couldn’t take it. She’d rather get blasted by a lightning bolt than face those shadows, or admit that they still affected her.

But she wasn’t a coward. To become one now would be an insult to herself and her masters.

“You’re right.” Her words surprised Mai enough that she faced her again. “I’ll try harder. Things are just happening so quickly.” 

The silence was almost overwhelming.

“I… didn’t consider that.” Mai finally said, standing up. “I guess this day has juat been too bizarre for all of us.”

She nodded at Azula, heavy with things unspoken, and headed back to Ome’s hut without waiting for Ty Lee.

Azula couldn’t find it in herself to fault Mai.

Ty Lee had not moved from her spot, still close enough that she could reach out to Azula if she wanted to. She probably would have, if things were different. Touch and contact used to come easiest to her with Ty Lee: the one to loop her arms around Azula as they walked along the palace corridors and the Royal Academy’s halls, the one who used to purposefully fall against Azula on the grass after executing a perfect flip.

That easiness was a thing of the past. Ty Lee was practically a stranger now. Four years was a long time, after all.

“Your dragon is beautiful,” Ty Lee said, glancing Lan at again.

“His name’s Lan.”

A light chuckle. “That’s fitting.”

“Don’t let him fool you. He can be a brat sometimes.”

“Azula.”

Ty Lee uttered her name like a gentle, fond reproach. It was familiar despite the ravine between them, dug up by distance and time. But that was just Ty Lee, wasn’t it? Azula hadn’t forgotten. Her friend who was as light on her feet as she was in demeanor, sweet as a summer’s day yet would willingly make fun of the other girls at school when the mood struck them both—

That wasn't right; Ty Lee never did those willingly, not really.

“I’m sorry about Mai. She’s protective of Zuko. I mean, we kinda both are. But…” Ty Lee lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We just found you.”

“Please don’t hold yourself back on my account. Whatever you have to say, I can take it.”

“That’s not – I didn’t mean that.”

Azula wasn’t completely successful at hiding the bitterness from her tone.

“I was really sad when you were gone, you know,” Ty Lee went on. She was looking away from Azula, staring instead at the small rainbow-hued fire. “And I thought you were gone for good. I don’t want to fight with you now if I can avoid it, even though I did hate it whenever you snapped at Zuko. I just wanted to talk to you first, before...”

“Before you judge me?”

“Before I stop hoping.”

Despite not knowing exactly what Ty Lee meant by that, her heart turned in on itself.

“Have you?” she asked, both dreading and wanting the answer.

Ty Lee’s smile, when it came, held the softness of the predawn light Azula always woke up to.

“No, I haven’t.” She drew her gaze up at Azula with her head slightly inclined, a curious frown wrinkling her brow. “You’re different.”

“Is it a good kind of different?”

“I don’t know yet, but that’s what I’m hoping for.”

Azula laughed, the sound making Lan stir in his sleep.

Ty Lee was looking at her weirdly.

“Something on my face?”

“Oh, um, it’s…no.” Ty Lee shook her head slightly. She sighed, her breath coming out fluttery. “I just – never heard you laugh like that.”

Her voice _had_ gone raspier, she thought. It was probably just that. An unavoidable consequence of spending hours practicing her dragon’s breath. She was coughing up smoke when she was first trying out the technique, just like Lan had when he was first discovering his bellyful of fire, when he was still small enough to fit in her palms.

A lot could change in four years.

“Different?”

“Good different.” Ty Lee smiled after a moment, full and bright.

*****

That night, before she drifted off to sleep, she caught sight of the moon through her window as the tang of salt air lingered in her senses. She dreamed of a pretty face lit up by every color of flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more fire siblings abound in the next chapter! oh and i finally planted the seeds for tyzula and that was <3 
> 
> again, thanks for the comments and kudos! you guys fuel this insanity that is "spending a large chunk of my free time rewriting atla through a fic" and i thank you for that lol
> 
> much love!


	8. of daughters...

When she told Mai the night before that she would try harder with Zuko, she was planning on doing it after a day or two of steering clear of him. But Zuko rose with the sun, it turned out, and Azula had been up since the break of dawn.

She was in the middle of her breathing exercises, in the clearing in front of their hut, when Zuko stepped outside. It probably wasn’t his intention to distract her with his own crude morning routine, but it didn’t change the fact that he was being _very_ distracting.

“Damn it,” she mumbled as she flounced over to Zuko.

He was mid-kick when he spotted Azula approaching him, nearly staggering forward in his surprise. His footwork needed a bit of work.

“Azula!”

“Yes, I haven’t forgotten my name, Zuzu.” She kept her expression neutral. “Who’s been training you?”

His face fell. So far, so bad. “Uncle did, before he…”

Right. Their dead Uncle.

“And after that?” she tried again.

“Well, Sifu Tuo—”

“Really? Him? He taught me when I was ten and Ozai had him replaced after a week. He obviously wouldn’t send you to Lo and Li but still, I’d expect better than Tuo.”

“He was pretty useless, yeah.” He smiled a little. “How about you?”

“I trained with Ome.”

“You mean, the…” Zuko jerked his thumb towards their hut.

“Yes.”

“Is she and Rikai—”

“I didn’t come here to indulge your appetite for gossip,” she said, eyebrows puckering. “But yes, they are. Now, instead of having you distract me while I do my breathing exercises, I’m going to let you join me. Come along.”

She gave him a quick run through of the fundamentals, but left him to his own devices after that, trusting that he’d mimic what she was doing even when she was sure he would botch the routine. At least there weren’t any distracting noises.

“All right,” she said when they were done. “Breakfast?”

“Wait, that’s it?”

She adjusted the gold bands in her arm. “Breathing exercises don’t take up an entire day, Zuko.”

Zuko frowned. “But you’re not going to… do anything else? Maybe some advanced drills?”

“I usually do when the sun is at its peak, then some meditation before sunset. Besides, keeping a strict regimen of practicing your breathing techniques is far more essential. It is the base of all firebending,” Azula said to him. “Endurance and agility are useless without the harmonious regulation of our inner fire. And fire, Zuzu, comes from the breath.”

For some reason, Zuko looked sad again. _Trying harder_ was going swimmingly. She probably shouldn’t have spoken to him like he was some novice bender.

“Power in firebending comes from the breath,” he echoed with a wan smile. “Uncle used to say that.”

“I suppose he got that from the Sun Warriors,” she said with a shrug.

“What do you mean?”

 _Of course the old man didn’t tell him._ “Uncle found the tribe while hunting for a dragon.”

Realization dawned on Zuko. “He never told me that.”

“What did he tell you?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. 

“Well, you know how it goes. He found the last dragon and…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet. “He, uh, killed it.”

Azula never thought she’d know something about Iroh that her dear brother didn’t. She smirked at him. “That’s not true at all.”

“What?”

“Uncle did find the last dragons, but instead of committing an atrocious act he instead learned the secrets of firebending from the ancient masters. Did you really think Uncle would kill a dragon, though?” Iroh was a lot of things, but he was no cruel savage.

“He...” Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re making up lies about Uncle to—”

“Why would I bother embellishing the truth if Uncle actually turned out to be a vile dragon murderer?”

Zuko’s shoulders drooped. “He never told me that,” he said again.

If only Zuko knew the other secrets his beloved Uncle Iroh kept from him. Crown Prince Zuko, kept in the dark by Ozai and Iroh both, not to mention their Mother. Azula actually felt bad for him.

After a few moments deliberating with herself, she reached out to pat him on the shoulder.

“It was no fault of yours, Zuko.”

Zuko straightened up at the contact, eyes wide as he lifted them to look at her. The guilt that had suffocated her yesterday was replaced with cautious hope. 

Azula drew her hand back.

“Uncle swore a Fire Oath of secrecy,” she said shortly. “He obviously planned on keeping it, since the Uncle we knew had both of his hands intact.”

Zuko rasped out a chuckle. It felt more tolerable, all of sudden, to be around him. It helped that Azula had a day and a night's rest to help her adjust to this reality—one with people plucked out from a world she’d turned her back from and placed jarringly in the life she had now. Azula was nothing if not adaptive after all.

“Uncle learned from the tribe’s elders, then?”

“Yes, but not the ones you met yesterday.”

Confusion wrinkled his face again. Azula sighed and sat down on the ground, motioning for Zuko to come sit in front of her. As soon as he was settled, she said, “The ancient masters are Ran and Shaw, divine creatures who have watched over the tribe for centuries after our ancestors razed this civilization to the ground. In turn, the tribe kept them safe when our great-grandfather thought it would be a wonderful idea to start a tradition of slaying their kind.” 

Zuko nodded solemnly. Yesterday, after Azula had explained to everyone where they were, the first thing her brother did when he encountered the Sun Warriors was apologize for the sins of their people. She had to admit it was much more admirable than how Azula had behaved when she first turned up here. But then again, narrowly escaping death soured one's mood and manners.

“These divine creatures… are they spirits?”

It took all of Azula’s restraint not to groan. “They’re _dragons_ , dumdum. I’d have thought you would assume that first.”

“Uncle learned from dragons? That’s…” His voice tapered off, awe dawning on his features.

“He isn’t the only one,” she said.

“You also did?” Zuko was practically buzzing. “I thought you said you trained with Ome.”

Azula explained to him about the ceremonial ritual.

“Even _you_ could do it. That is, if you’re confident about your _worthiness_.” She said the last word extollingly, like how a sycophant would speak to the Fire Lord. “I’m not exaggerating when I say that they will destroy you on the spot when they judge you unworthy. There wouldn’t even be any ashes left to send back to Ozai.”

Azula could still vividly recall how Rikai had tried to stop her from going through the ritual. The poor woman had gained a few lines on her face after that day.

“But you did it anyway. Even when you knew there’s a risk of…”

“Incineration? Yes, I did,” she said. It made Zuko smile for some reason.

“You wanted to be better than you already were.” That made Zuko smile for some reason. “You always were ambitious.”

“It’s not as simple as that.” She extended her hands, palms facing up, and summoned small flames on both of them—one was blue, while the other bore all the other colors of fire conceivable. She watched as Zuko’s eyes stared at both flames with awe and longing. “What we were taught back in the Fire Nation are mostly bastardizations of what firebending genuinely is. It is not destruction, and it shouldn't be fueled by rage or blind ambition.

“It is life, and energy. Firebenders have two heartbeats—one pumping blood, the other keeping our inner fire alive like a little sun within us. I may sound like I’m being vague and abstract, but that’s exactly why we seek the wisdom of our true elders. Words couldn’t completely capture the language of fire.” She let her cup of flames stanch, placing her hands back on her thighs. “When Rikai and I arrived here, I was… in turmoil, so to speak. If you ever find yourself in that place, you’ll understand the desperation for any answer you can get, whatever form it might take. When Ome told me that I can learn the true meaning of firebending, I leapt at the chance right away. The risk felt inconsequential compared to what I could gain.”

Zuko’s eyes stayed on the spot between them where her hands had been, deep in thought.

“You were worthy,” he said, a touch short of a whisper.

She expected envy, just like when they were children as Azula outdid Zuko in almost every endeavor, but instead he was smiling at her again. She wasn’t sure what to do with this Zuko—patient and understanding and not as quick to anger than he had been when they were younger. It was a sign that Ozai’s dislike of him had persisted in the past few years, despite being his only heir. Once, he told them that Azula was born lucky, while Zuko was lucky to even be born. Another falsehood. The only luck either of them could get while living under his roof and watchful eye was to escape it.

The shadows were still there: the slope of Zuko's nose just like Mother’s, the cut of his jaw and cheekbones like Ozai’s. Those weren’t going to go away soon. But his eyes, they reminded Azula of herself so much that it hurt, but it was the kind of hurt that healed instead of burned.

“A mystery for another time, Zuko,” she said before swiftly hoisting herself back on her feet. “Now's for breakfast.”

*****

_A voice, breathy and hushed, roused her from her sleep._

_Mother was there, peering down at her from the edge of her bed. Azula rubbed the bleariness from her eyes with the heels of her palm as she sat up._

_“Azula, dear.” Mother took her by the shoulders. “I don’t have much time.”_

_Her eyes darted between Azula’s face and the door like an agitated squirrel toad._

_“Mother—”_

_“Listen,” she said. “I am going away. I – I did something that…”_

_Her eyes widened. “Did you kill Father?”_

_“_ Azula _.” Mother hissed, then composed herself. “I didn’t kill your father, but I made a deal with him. I had to do something…atrocious. But you have to understand that I did it for your brother. I did it to protect him.”_

_She knew this, of course. Azula had been the one to tell her. And it was always about Zuko with Mother._

_“And I have to leave. I want to take you with me but—”_

_“I will_ not _go with you.”_

_The vehemence in her voice scythed through the already fragile calm in Mother’s face. Her eyes were gaping wounds now, exposing the weakness she and Zuzu shared._

_“Your grandfather has passed away. By morning, I will have gone, and your father will be Fire Lord.” Mother raised her hand and gently cupped Azula’s cheek, her palm bringing a shock of cold skin and tenderness. “Remember that I love you, that you’re my daughter no matter what. Please, Azula.”_

_Azula did not deign to reply to her, but she kept her eyes on her mother’s. A small whimper escaped from Mother as she let her hand fall from Azula's cheek, her face crumpled in a pathetic twist of hurt. Azula wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t want to leave, or because of the cold, hard look that Azula gave her in place of words._

_But she let Mother embrace her and didn’t move when the warm kiss on the top of her head lingered for a moment. And when she stayed up until the sun rose, she couldn’t fully revel in the prospect of her Father’s ascension. Instead, the image of her mother’s face, sunken and bruised with anguish, kept flashing in her mind._

_The next day, the sight of her Father made her stow away the image. It was easy to forget with Father on the throne, watching all of them like a hawk. It was easy to never unearth the image when Father started telling her how the glory of conquest was their destiny, that a daughter of his should never have room for weakness._

*****

“You’re slacking!” The earthbender child, Toph, shouted. “Root yourself! You are a rock, remember?”

“Yes, Sifu.”

Azula watched, with growing fascination, as Yue deepened her low stance and curled her toes, the dry soil yielding to her. A large rock, at least half her size, was balanced on her back and shoulders as her arms kept it in place. From the look of it, she was carrying the rock with earthbending to support the burden and sheer muscle strength to maintain her stance. A few passersby stared at the pair, Azula merely shrugging at them when they looked at her as if to ask what was going on.

“How long can she last?” she asked, leaning slightly to her right where Ty Lee stood.

“I think Toph made her hold it up for hours once.”

Azula looked at Yue again. Aside from the sweat trickling from her forehead and the determined curl of her brows, she wasn’t showing any sign of exhaustion. Her knees weren’t threatening to buckle and the rock was unmoving.

“She’s certainly playing for keeps.”

“You have no idea,” Ty Lee said with a small chuckle. “She has to, though. Toph’s relentless!”

A while later, Yue switched to a crane stance at her younger Sifu's command. This time her leg briefly shook a minute or so later. Other than that, Yue remained as steady and rooted as a mountain.

After that bit of endurance stance training, Toph made Yue wear a blindfold and stand in the middle of a wide circle she'd drawn in the clearing in front of their hut. Katara was a few paces behind her, a tendril of water snaking out of her water pouch, while Toph stood at her front with her arms folded, tapping her foot as she waited for the others to take their positions. The warrior girl—Suki, she remembered Rikai calling her—and Katara’s brother stepped up inside the circle, each bearing their weapon of choice.

Without so much as a warning, Toph slammed her foot down. A hunk of earth surged from beneath Yue’s feet. Yue promptly flipped backwards, then she thrust a clawed hand forward in a punch that zipped through the air. The pillar exploded into bits, dust clouding around Yue. She wasn’t afforded a time to breath though as a water whip aimed at her feet. Yue deflected it with a wall of earth that surrounded her legs, then sliding her bare heel to launch it towards Katara in retaliation.

Suki and water tribe boy advanced at the same time: the former gracefully evading Yue's block, while the latter was tripped over by a mound of soil popping up to meet his feet. Zuko, who was watching from behind him, laughed loudly as the boy fell bodily to the ground.

“This is fun,” said Azula as the unorthodox training session went on. All four seemed to be going easy on Yue, but the way she could still defend and counter without the benefit of sight was admittedly impressive. “If you threw knives at her,” she said, turning to Mai, “do you think she can deflect those too?”

“Probably. She’d have trouble though—Yue’s still learning this technique so it’s best not to do that yet. Wouldn’t want to poke holes at the Avatar.” Azula and Ty Lee both snickered. “I have sparred with Toph though.”

“And how did she fare against you?”

Mai raised one shoulder slightly in a shrug. “Well enough. I’d wager that she’s got as good a handle with her element as you do with fire.”

Azula hummed thoughtfully, looking back at the earthbender child. Her movements were sharper than the few displays of earthbending Azula had seen before—from sages and their pupils visiting the palace when she was young. She supposed Mai’s assessment wasn’t entirely far off.

Once the show was done, the four huddled around Yue, talking excitedly in a chorus of _you were amazing_ and _that was so great_. Toph was the only one giving useful commentary. Yue did almost slip up a few times and that needed fixing.

Mai strode over to the warrior girl, handing her a piece of cloth. The other girl wiped the sweat from her face with it, smiling as she said something that made Mai roll her eyes. Azula turned to Ty Lee with a questioning brow.

“Oh, right,” said Ty Lee. “They’re sort of a thing now, I think.”

“I thought Mai liked Zuzu?”

“That was ages ago, Azula.”

“I’ve been presumed dead for the last four years so I’m not exactly caught up with the latest gossip.”

Ty Lee frowned; it was adorable. “You should stop joking about that.”

“It’s far too amusing to watch you react to it.” Ty lee pouted slightly, proving her point. Azula grinned at her.

“All right, I’ll try to stop.”

Azula turned over the idea of Mai and Suki in her head. “They seem like an interesting match. And unless my eyes deceive me,” her gaze flitted to her brother, who was grinning from ear to ear while the water tribe boy hung an arm around his shoulder, chattering his ears off. “I think Zuzu himself is quite smitten.”

Ty Lee notice what she was looking at and laughed, a short amused sound. “He hasn’t done something about that yet, actually.”

“Why does that not surprise me.”

“We could give them a little push.” Ty Lee nudged Azula lightly with her elbow. “It could be fun, just like old times.”

A quick flash of a memory—a game, an apple, water splashing from a fountain, Ty Lee’s giggle and Mai’s exasperated groan—made her smile involuntarily. Old times wasn’t something she liked to dip her toes into, but she could make a few exceptions.

*****

Even with the dragon saddle keeping her in place, her dragonrider’s boots gripping the stirrups securely, the wind and the altitude still made her feel weightless. Calling her daily patrols her job always did feel like a cheat

Ome had made friends with the sailors and had taken them to help the tribe’s fishermen, while Rikai was indulging the many questions their other guests had for her. The floodgates of curiosity had opened for them, and Azula left Rikai to deal with the onslaught. It didn’t matter. Rikai thrived in giving lectures.

Despite how flying with Lan felt like an indulgence, Azula took her role seriously. She was Lan’s rider and companion, both of them an extension of Ran and Shaw’s age-old mandate to protect the Sun Warriors and the Eternal Flame. And even if the ancient masters didn’t grant her the great honor of entrusting Lan to her, she’d still be as committed to it as she was now.

They were gliding above seaside cliffs—large rocks cropping up along the island’s northern coast—when she spotted it.

Lan had sensed its presence before she did, his body rumbling beneath her, and they were both on alert by the time the creature appeared out of the clouds. Azula squinted up and saw what it was. An air bison. It had been ages since she’d last seen one; even the air nomads never drifted in these parts. But she was sure it was one. No other creature with that bulk could lift itself at that height.

She leaned her whole body against the saddle, placing a hand palm-down on Lan’s neck. His full-body rumble had waned down to a purr. Air bison were peace-loving creatures after all. Still, where there was an air bison, there was usually a rider. 

Without urging, Lan flew up to meet it.

“Lan, what”—she gripped the saddle horn tight—“are you doing?”

He went around the bison, his wide wing-span and narrower body allowing him to fly past it and twist himself so they were flying right behind it. From this vantage point Azula could make out the crimson and deep yellow of air nomad clothes fluttering in the wind, short hair swept about by the wind. The rider turned just as Lan steered closer. A young face, the unmistakable arrow tattoo of a master airbender visible under the light of the hot sun.

The bison landed smoothly on the nearest cliff, Lan and Azula not far behind. She slid from the saddle as soon as they touched ground. The air nomad hopped down from the bison, a flurry of air cushioning her landing.

Azula trudged over and said, “Speak, before I get impatient and feed you to my dragon.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the airberder hurriedly said. “Am I trespassing? La did warn me about that… I assure you I come with no ill intent.” She gave Azula a shallow bow. “I am most honored to finally meet you, Princess Azula. My name is Jinora.” 

“Princess Azula is dead.”

“Um, you’re right in front of me.”

Just how many people knew she was alive?

“What are you doing here?” said Azula, trying another tactic. “I know you people wander a lot, but this is nowhere for an airbending master to be.” _Unless you want to test how fire reacts to your dainty little wind tricks._

“To find you, and also Avatar Yue, and Katara from the southern water tribe. They _are_ with you, right?”

Whoever this girl was, there was no way she could’ve known Yue and Katara were here, or that she was Azula and not some random dragonrider in some nameless island. More than anything, her lack of surprise at Lan’s presence unsettled Azula the most.

She stared hard at the airbender. They were nearly the same height, the other girl having only an inch or two over her. Azula let some of her heat seep out of her pores to make the air grow threateningly warm between them.

The airbender only smiled, though. “I know this must be…weird, but I was sent here by the Ocean spirit to—”

“Hold on,” Azula cut her off. “Did you just say that a spirit sent you here?”

“Yes,” the girl replied. “Though I guess _encouraged_ would be the right word for it.”

Azula chose to humor her. If it meant she’d follow her back to the tribe willingly to be judged by the chief, then all the better for the both of them. Flexing her bending a little by fighting an airbending master would’ve been nice, but something held her back. She just wasn’t in the mood… probably. These couple of days had been more than odd.

“Right. Ocean spirits. What else?”

“Spirit. Just one,” she corrected.

Azula let that slide. “Why did the Ocean spirit _encourage_ you to come here, then? Do you even know where you are?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “I guess it would be easier if I showed you.”

“And how would you do that?”

“Here. Allow me.” The airbender held her hand out. Azula started at it suspiciously, eyes trained on the tail end of her airbender tattoos, the head of an arrow creeping out of the girl’s sleeve to the back of her delicate hand. “You can trust me, Princess Azula. I promise.”

Something—a tickle at the back of her mind and a tugging at her stomach—made her lift her hand and wrap it around the one being extended in front of her.

At first, all she felt was a tingle where their skin met, like nerves blooming, or the brush of her own flame when she held it in her hands. She saw the girl, Jinora, close her eyes.

When Azula sucked in a breath and did the same, it wasn’t the dimness of her eyelids that swallowed her vision.

*****

As soon as it was over, she let go of Jinora’s hand. Her own had gone sweaty and she wiped her palm on her pants.

“What on earth was that?”

“That was La. All of it—the voice, the blue void, it was her. That was what she showed me.” Jinora’s lips curled in a small smile. “She left that lucid piece of memory in me so I can show it to you.”

Azula could still feel the remnants of the buoyant calm like fresh dew on a leaf, the words spoken in fathomless echoes swirling like faraway murmurs in her mind. It should’ve been too much to take in, but Azula had never felt this in tune with all that surrounded her before—the sound of the waves beneath them was now a deeply familiar melody, the warmth of the sun was a mother’s embrace. A once dormant awareness unspooled inside of her like the blooming of a flower bud bending towards the nearest light. With it came a watershed of a memory: the ancient Sun Warrior texts that Rikai had made her read not so long ago, the legend of sun daughters…

For the second time in the past two days, an answer was thrusted upon her. Though this felt like something she’d always known.

She turned to Lan. He was gazing at her like Ran had those years ago, the slight baring of his teeth just like Shaw’s. His jade eyes were agleam.

Azula cocked her head at him. _You knew, didn’t you?_

Lan let out puffs of steam from his nostrils before he bent his head down slightly. Not quite a bow, nor a nod, but an affirmation all the same.

“Will that…thing you did work on two more people?” she asked Jinora

“If by two more you mean Avatar Yue and Katara? Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note: ursa waking up azula to say goodbye to her (and vaguely explaining what she'd done) was a deliberate change from canon.
> 
> thanks for reading. i love hearing what you guys think so please do leave comments if you can/want to <3


	9. and mothers

Katara had seen sky bison a handful of times in her life—whenever an air nomad made the occasional visit to the South Pole, and then nearly a dozen of them at once during her visit in Agna Qel’a.

But Katara had never spoken to a master airbender before. A lot of people treated them like they were holy, sanctified, as if their tattoos were a mark of approval from the spirits themselves. Some were cautious of them, mostly hoodlums who had either witnessed or heard stories of Avatar Aang’s great powers.

The one Azula brought with her was a girl no older than herself.

Sokka, who used to help at the temporary stables back home whenever there was a visiting air nomad in their village, took charge with handling the bison. He dragged Zuko with him and the others followed, leaving Katara and Yue in the hut with Azula and the master airbender. Ome and Rikai had also left earlier after Azula took them aside and talked with them in hurried, hushed tones. Azula and the airbender were doing the same now, standing by the doorway across the room. Yue looked at her questioningly. Katara merely shrugged, just as at a loss as she was.

“Katara, Yue,” said Azula, finally walking over to them. She gestured to the airbender. “This is Jinora of the Southern Air Temple.”

Recognition lit a lamp in her mind.

“You’re Avatar Aang’s granddaughter,” she said.

Jinora smiled before bowing. “I am blessed to be in your presence.”

She made it seem like she was addressing both her and Yue, which was odd and surely a mistake, but when she rose from her bow the girl’s gaze danced between the of them, as if her eyes could not decide which face to linger on.

“Jinora has something important to show you,” Azula spoke up. Her face was carefully unreadable, but Katara could sense the bubbling excitement in her. She turned to Jinora. “How do you suggest we go about this?”

Jinora asked for them to sit down, cross-legged as if they were about to meditate, and when she asked for Azula to join them the latter looked confused.

“I won’t just be showing the memory,” Jinora said. “Your energies are at its peak when you three are together, and I will try to...guide you.”

Katara was _very_ confused, but her body was screaming how this was right, that this was exactly what Katara ought to be doing—a sensation eerily identical to what she felt in the Spirit Oasis.

Azula nodded and joined them, gracefully sinking down on the floor. Katara was in the middle, Azula and Yue on either side of her taking each of her hand. Jinora sat across them, calm and present, both hands outstretched. Azula reached out to hold the one being held out to her. Slowly, Yue did the same.

“Take a deep breath,” said Jinora, “and close your eyes.”

Katara did as she was instructed.

At first, nothing. Then—a tug like an intimate caress to her mind, carrying her spirit right into the ocean’s maw.

****

Waves. Yue heard waves and she understood its language. This, this was the voice who spoke to Yue’s mother long ago.

La spoke and another voice answered, more breath than words. The airbender, Yue remembered. This was her memory, but Yue let the truth suffuse her as if it were her own.

When the memory played out its last images, she was flung to a different space, a different feeling, no longer a piece of the aibender’s memory.

There was the Sun, up above in her heavenly home and surrounded by the endless sky. _Sister_ , her spirit trilled. The Sun’s rays glared directly at her, but it didn’t hurt her eyes, nor did it burn her skin. Yue drank up the light, storing it up for when it was her turn to banish darkness from the world. She tore her gaze away from the Sun and down, down where the Ocean shimmered under her sister’s light, down where the Ocean was vast and mighty. _My love_ , her heart called out, and the Ocean answered in waves and whorls, in sea foam and ever-changing tides that undulate at her command.

This wasn’t something that happened to her, but she didn’t feel like a mere passive observer the same way she did with Jinora’s memory. This was Tui showing her daughter a taste of the wonders she’d experienced in her beginningless existence, of the power that helped shape the world she lived in. This was _love_ and acceptance at its most wordless and purest.

*****

When Yue came back to her body, she didn’t open her eyes right away. She sucked in air through her nose, willing her still levitating thoughts to float back down.

“… _Avatar and child of the moon_ …” The words sounded as if they came from a deep crevice withing her, a voice of a thousand tongues speaking as one. “… _You are us, and you are your own_ … _us and your own_ … _us and your own_ …”

Yue’s eyes fluttered open. The voice was gone, as if the waft of air that funneled through the windows of the hut had carried it away.

Jinora was looking at them with naked awe.

“I lost the three of you,” she breathed. “You were just…your spirits went somewhere I was barred from going.”

There was a long, silent, thoughtful moment that followed—the three of them exchanging glances.

“My mother took me sight-seeing,” Azula finally said, followed by a chuckle—but the awestruck look in her eyes was too bright. “I became the Sun for a handful of minutes. I don’t think anything can ever top that. Life will be so dull now.”

“Something like that happened to me, too,” Katara murmured, eyes brimming with feelings piled over one another, all of them a different shade of epiphany. “It makes so much sense now.”

Katara was right. It did. It wasn’t knowledge—knowledge implied discovery, but it felt more like an awakening, a part of her being roused from its fitful sleep—it felt like looking inward, past her human shell and into her spirit where the truth of her was. She was the same girl, only more cognizant of her place in the world, of the nexus between her and others, between spirits and the forces of nature, of the boundless powers coexisting and keeping life in balance. Of her _mothers_ , the one who bore her and the one who blessed her.

They sat there and let the truth sink in.

*****

The peculiar part was that nothing much had changed. There was no astronomical shift in her world, colors did not deepen or brighten in her eyes, fire was still fire and the air she breathed wasn’t sweeter than it was the day before. Perhaps change hadn’t been the point. She was no goddess or empress of all creation, just a girl that the Sun spirit grew fond of for reasons her mortal mind couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend.

It was a lot like being a firebender. As a child, she had no sense of what bending was, other than it being intrinsic to her. The fact that Azula could singe blankets or make her cup of tea boil was something she had never questioned. No creature asked why they had limbs, they just used them. It wasn’t until she was told about firebending that it became more than just something she was born with: it was an ancient art, a divinely-imparted skill, a power she needed to tame and learn how to wield.

That was what happened when Jinora showed her the memory, when the Sun spirit let Azula experience her unfathomable existence for a few precious moments. Her connection to the Sun, the source of her power, wasn’t a mere natural affinity she shared with every firebender. Azula was _spirit-blessed_.

Azula initially voted to keep it to themselves. Yue and Katara wanted to at least tell the rest of their group. When they did, Ome wanted to tell the chief and the council of elders. She acquiesced in the end. That was how she ended up enduring days of questions stacked up over questions. It was a bit of a chore, but not necessarily unpleasant. She could admit to glowing a little under the attention.

Jinora was working with the tribe elders to write their accounts, weaving truth with their skilled hands and enlightened minds into knowledge to be passed on in perpetuity—just like the ancient texts Azula had read about the sun daughters before her.

There had been two of them mentioned in the texts, their names in forgotten tongues that Azula’s unpracticed one could not utter without butchering. One had been the first human to ever mount a dragon, in a time when they were still called fire-serpents. The other one had witnessed the rise of the Sun Warrior’s city, a woman whose descendants ruled their once shining city-state for generations. The rest were probably too ancient for there to be any record of their lives.

Was this how Yue felt when she learned about her previous lives? Azula was not a reincarnation of any of these women, none of them lived inside of her, but she carried their legacy nonetheless.

It was the morning of the fifth day since Jinora arrived. Azula had an codex in her lap, carefully handling it as she read about how one sun daughter first encountered her fire-serpent mount and companion. She pretended to be so engrossed in her reading when she heard the footsteps emerge from the hut.

Ome came to sit beside her, silent and cautious as a hunter.

After a while of Ome not saying anything, Azula said, “There was no account of the Sun’s daughters in the royal library. In Agni’s shrine, too. Not a single scroll about any blessed child.”

“The last two sun daughters before you came from my people. Like the mighty Ilhuicacihuatl,” Ome said, pointing at the open page, a finger hovering over a sketch of a fire-serpent and its rider. “Your ancestors wouldn’t keep records of a hero in our culture.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said with a small sigh.

Ome squinted at her. “Something bothering you?”

“Nothing. I’m just ruminating.”

“About what? It better be breakfast.”

Azula gave her a blank stare. “Were you about to ask me to make breakfast when you came out here?”

“Well—yes, but then you’re out here _ruminating_ so that will have to wait,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it or would you rather cook breakfast before Rikai wakes up?”

“I’m comfortable here.”

“Then you might as well unburden your ruminations to me.”

Azula rolled her eyes at Ome. She closed the tome and marked the page with a finger. “Obviously it’s about being the chosen daughter of a great illuminate spirit who is the source of life and most of creation.”

Ome hummed, resting her chin on her closed fist. “That’s a lot to chew. What about it, though?”

“Everything about it? You can’t cut a revelation like that into small manageable parts, Ome.”

“You are overthinking again.”

“Am I?” Azula said with a raised brow.

“You’re reading the legend of Ilhuicacihuatl, which means you’re trying to learn about the lives of sun daughters before you, which also means you are _ruminating_ about what being a sun daughter should be. Or perhaps what it means to live as one. Either way, you’re overthinking.”

Azula had always made a conscious effort of avoiding being so predictable that someone would able to read her like a book. Those efforts rarely worked on Ome.

“Is it really so bad to want to do something right?”

Some weakness must have leaked out of her voice because Ome was looking at her with such an open look of concern, the laugh lines in the woman’s face twisted in odd ways to make way for the emotion.

“Azula…” An arm around her shoulder, warm and solid. Comforting. “You aren’t doing any of this wrong. You don’t have to be perfect for the sun to smile upon you. I mean, look,” Ome swept a hand towards the rising sun, “the sun already loves you. You want to know what I think?”

She turned to Ome, like the lost girl who held on to her every word when Ome first told her about the ancient masters.

“I think,” Ome began, “that She saw how you stood out from everyone, the same way Ran and Shaw saw how you were worthy despite you being the royal brat that you were when you and Rikai arrived here.” Ome gently nudged Azula’s chin with her knuckle, coaxing a smile. “And I think being blessed is not the same as being cursed with a burden. The goddess is not greedy, Azula. She’s not expecting anything from you, only that you continue _being_. You were always going to be great, sun-blessed or not.”

Azula lowered her gaze. “How can I be great when I’m dispensable?” 

The pathetic, whisper of a thought finally came out of her. Long buried, but still there, crawling out of its grave.

“Listen to me,” Ome leaned down so they were facing each other again, “you’re not dispensable, never have been. That’s Ozai’s rot still clinging to your mind. He was afraid of you – even _he_ could see what you could be, and it terrified him into cowardice.”

For a moment, Ome grew hot as a furnace. Azula watched her breathe deeply until she no longer felt like a sun about to implode beside her.

Ome gave her cheek a pat, the tenderness of the gesture not quite undercutting the steel in her eyes. “He’ll face the Sun’s justice soon enough.”

*****

Katara relished the kiss of seawater against her sandaled feet. The dried up sweat and dust that clung to her skin like mud in drought began to dissolve. She wiggled her toes, crystalline water turning murky until another gentle wave washed it away, leaving her feet cleansed of half a day’s worth of dirt.

A cart pulled by a monkey ox carried most of their things as they made their way to the shore, but it was sweltering. Even the sand in the beaches were hot. Narra’s crew were eager to get on with it, so Katara did what she came to do.

The rowing boats reached the ship less than half the time it would've taken them without Katara and the few waterbenders of Narra’s crew commanding the waters. They contrasted the will of the sea and created ripples of their own, carrying the boats swiftly to their mother ship—the _Orca_ , just as ruggedly sturdy as they had left it.

“You should know I’m no good at farewells,” said Narra. She was twirling her pipe in her hands, leaning her side against the railings. Behind her, the crew busied themselves with their tasks. “The people I do business with, I usually meet again sooner or later. Not sure about you and your little group, though.”

“We’ll meet again,” Katara said with certainty. “Thank you for everything.”

“Eh, you kids paid me a fortune, remember?”

She reached out inside her pocket and handed a folded letter to Narra. “Suki said to give this to Keiko when you get to Kyoshi.”

Narra took it, placing the letter inside a concealed pocket right above her chest. She gave Katara’s shoulder a pat and smiled. Not too bad, as far as farewells went.

In a sudden rush of inspiration, Katara chose to swim the whole way back to the shore. She dove willingly into the open arms of the sea, her pulse like wavelets of delight. When she surfaced, she was met with cheers. The crew waved at her from the ship, their words unintelligible but their eagerness more than made up for it. Laughter bubbled out of her chest as she raised a hand to wave back, a single sweep in the air, then dove right back into the water.

She wasn’t using her bending, though it was tempting to propel herself ashore with a little push. But the strain in her muscles with every stroke, every kick of her legs, was a welcome sting. She was spirit-blessed whether she chose to bend her element or not. Katara sat on the beach for a while when she reached it, long enough that the water in her skin dried off in the sun.

Learning about the Ocean’s blessing felt, among other things, like being seen, truly and completely—her unpredictable rages were like sea storms, her longing to explore beyond like the outreaching limbs of the ocean. How lucky she was, to have two mothers who knew her well.

She hugged her knees and listened to the waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for reading, :) 
> 
> btw most of the spiritual elements of this fic will come to fruition (or be more relevant to the plot) in my planned sequel. it's still a skeleton of an idea but i'm really excited about it.


	10. to be worthy

Sun Tribe hospitality was different from how the northern tribe embraced foreigners, or even how the Kyoshi Islanders did. They were suspicious in the beginning, unflinching in their laws, but once that hurdle was out of the way they made their acceptance show by allowing them to be functioning members of their community, offering them roles that befit their skills—Katara worked with the healers, her brother helped the fishermen, Zuko worked at the forge, Mai used her accurate aim to help the hunters (it was either that or teach children), Toph and Yue took some time away from their training to fix crumbling foundations of old temples in the ruins with earthbending, Suki and Ty Lee trained young nonbenders, and Jinora spent her days helping Elder Jomei. Things were simple; there was a solid structure to things that were flexible enough to afford them a place within it.

It reminded her of home.

When Narra said they were to leave after they took their Fire Oath, she and the others turned to Yue and Zuko. Yue wished to stay. She wanted to keep training with Toph, and Azula had agreed to teach her firebending when the time came. Besides, Jinora was staying with them and she had a sky bison. Transport was no longer an issue.

And Zuko—he never admitted it, but they knew he wasn’t sure what to do next. He hadn’t planned on what to do once he found Azula. Going back to the Fire Nation wasn’t an option either. When Mai and Ty Lee made no qualms about staying for a while, he soon agreed. At least it gave the three of them time to bridge whatever gap in the bond they shared with Azula before, or perhaps build something new over it. 

As for Katara, she was content to stay put for now. She was learning new things, getting herself acquainted to a people and a culture whose existence she’d never been made aware of before. And Yue was happy.

The tribe’s healing house was unlike the ones back home or in the north. It was within a cave at the foot of a sacred stone hill—the birthplace of a fire-serpent that predated the ancient city. Healing was practiced by both women and men. On her first day the head healer, Elder Iyo, showed her how the Sun tribe’s healing arts. For healing firebenders, it was a matter of accelerating their innate healing ability, or as Iyo had put it, “to awaken the sun within and banish the fog that keeps it from protecting the shell that houses it.” For healing nonbenders and for external injuries, they had a wide inventory of medicinal herbs, salves, and concoctions purified by the eternal flame. They cleansed the body of impurities with steam that smelled of herbs and spring. Katara was especially intrigued by their surgeons, who used thin knives of obsidian mined from the dormant volcanoes in the island.

She was in her third week working with the healers when Jinora was rushed to the healing house. There were two people with her, a girl named Muli, who she recognized as one of Azula’s friends, and a boy who wore the crimson armband of an elder’s apprentice. Muli was pressing a bloodied cloth against Jinora’s right hand.

“What happened?” Katara asked as she rushed over to them, leading Jinora to her station and making her sit.

“She cut herself,” replied Muli. “It’s not very deep but it won’t stop bleeding.”

Jinora waved her uninjured hand. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”

Muli pursed her lips, her face knitting. She, too, had a strip of crimson cloth around her lean arm.

“How did this happen, anyway?”

“I was showing her old glyph stone carvings and she wanted to try replicating one,” answered the boy, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Her hand slipped and…. yeah, I should’ve just let her watch me do it first.”

“That’s what I said.” She heard Muli hiss under her breath, cutting him a glare.

“I’m fine, Muli. Katara can fix it in no time.” Jinora extracted her hand from Muli’s clutch and held it out to Katara.

Katara cleaned the cut first, then she held it over the light. The cut wasn’t deep, just like Muli had told her. The boy left, rather awkwardly, after he was assured that Jinora was going to be all right. Muli kept to her side, only leaving when Jinora told her to wait outside. She did, though she looked like she’d rather swallow a rock than leave.

Katara bent a blob of water from the bucket she kept near her station, enough to cover Jinora’s hand. The water glowed, making Jinora sigh in relief as Katara guided her healing water over her wound.

“What was that all about?” Katara asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, your friend fussing over you getting a shallow cut.”

Jinora laughed. “Yeah, Muli does that. I think,” she said, face flushing. “I’m…not really sure.”

“You’re not sure?”

“I mean I’ve only known her for— three weeks? Since I started working for Elder Jomei.”

Katara hummed noncommittally. Internally she was thinking about asking Azula later about whether her friend Muli was a notorious worrier or not. Katara had a nagging suspicion that she wasn’t.

(That evening, when she told Azula about it, the other girl laughed and swore to never let Muli hear the end of it; Katara felt a little bad about it. Just a little.)

She came home that day to find her brother whittling. He’d stolen one of those wooden blocks that Ome kept and sat on it, frowning in concentration as he worked.

“Whatcha working on?”

Sokka looked up like a startled woodland creature, eyebrows all the way up to his forehead. He was probably in one of those moods of his—when the rest of the world except the task he chose to pour all his focus into disappeared into a blur.

“Oh, this?” He waved the piece of wood he’d been carving. “Just a little nothing.”

She crouched beside him. The wood was thumb-length, but Katara couldn’t tell what shape he was carving it into with his fingers clutching it like a vice. “What is it?”

“It’s _nothing_. I’m just bored, geez. Why are you home so early anyway?”

“The healing house wasn’t busy,” she said, shrugging. “Elder Iyo let some of us go before our shifts are done.”

He nodded. His fingers ran across the piece of wood briefly and Katara saw it, just a quick flash. It looked a bit like the Fire nation emblem, or something close to it.

“Is that—”

“Cut it out!” Sokka pushed her hand away.

“Fine, I’ll stop.”

Sokka flashed her a warning glare as he slipped the wood inside his pocket.

It was just the two of them. The others were either finishing their daily obligations or roaming around somewhere, in the beaches or in the tribe square. She knew Yue would be at the ruins at this hour, straight from her training with Toph, and Azula would be patrolling the skies on Lan by now.

“Do you miss home, Katara?” Sokka asked, so sudden that it almost startled her.

She thought carefully about her answer. “I do. Of course, I do.” She smiled, a small quirk of the lips. “I miss Mom and Dad and Gran Gran. I miss my friends from school and Bato, even Master Hama. But— I don’t really… want to go home yet. It’s complicated.”

Sokka gave her a one-armed hug, one of those tender shows of warmth that she’d get from him from time to time. So unlike the affectionate roughhousing and bone-crushing bear hugs, but Katara was much more fond of her brother when’s like this. “Yeah, I know,” he said as he kissed the side of her head. “I kind of feel the same.”

She looked up at her brother again, who was smiling thoughtfully now. Katara had always assumed Sokka didn’t want for things beyond what their village could offer—he had his training with the tribe’s warriors and hunters, his inventions and his studies, he could be the next chief if he wanted to. Somehow, she had been too absorbed with herself that she hadn’t bothered thinking about it. Or maybe they just didn’t talk often about things like this.

After a while, Sokka began whittling again. Katara turned her back to him, allowing him his privacy. She knew who it was for, anyway. (She resolved to talk about that with Sokka that didn’t involve teasing him for it.)

*****

Toph had not been exaggerating when she said no one could bend earth like she did, but Yue liked to think she wasn’t so far behind her Sifu.

Beneath her bare feet, the earth’s pulse was unpredictable and minute—the breath of a giant negligible to the unskilled. Yue had been learning from the best for over two months now, though, and she had learned how to listen with her whole body.

There were knives and balls of fire being flung at her, arms and metal fans and water whips seeking to push her out of balance. Her friends were hardly restraining themselves now, not like before when they started doing this, and yet Yue hadn’t stumbled once. She was still standing by the end of it, her blindfold damp from accumulated sweat. Someone pulled it out from her eyes and lifted her up, strong arms twirling her around and startling laughter out of her. 

“Not a single wobble this time, huh?” said Sokka once he put her down. Grinning, he reached out to ruffle her hair. Yue playfully swatted at his hand before he could ruin her updo.

“You broke my favorite sai,” said Mai, her tone dry as she plucked a few knives from a block of firmly clumped earth.

“Nah, you can always ask the guys at the forge to make you a new set,” Sokka told her. He admired his sword, held it at an angle so it reflected the sun’s glare—it was newly commissioned by Zuko as a gift—and sheathed it back carefully.

“If you keep making eyes at your weapon,” said Katara, sidling up to Yue, “Zuko’s going to regret giving you that.”

Zuko was out of earshot, a safe distance away and talking with Azula and some Sun Warriors who had been watching Yue train. Still, Sokka’s eyes widened in panic.

“Aw come on, Snoozles.” Toph thumped his shoulder. “You don’t really think we don’t know how whipped you are over Sparky, do you?”

“That’s crazy,” Sokka forced a chuckle. “W..what made you think that?”

“Aside from the fact that I can tell when you’re lying?”

Suki waggled her brows at him. “What’s the plan? Dragon dancing to profess your love? Marriage by Fire Oath? You _have_ to do something after he gave you that sword. That’s a big deal!”

“And remember the blacksmiths don’t accept money,” Katara pointed out. “Zuko had to pay for that fancy sword with actual labor.”

“Oh, oh, how about”—Ty Lee looped her arm around Sokka’s—“you two have a romantically-charged sword duel!”

Yue drifted from the group as Sokka continued his fruitless stammering at every elaborate suggestion, heading over to Azula and Zuko. As she approached the two, they were waving at the Sun Warriors who were just leaving. A few of them snuck weird glances at Yue— _weird_ because they were blatantly _flirtatious_ , and Yue didn’t quite know what to do with that. She had her fair share of admirers before, a consequence of being a princess and an Avatar both, but never quite this open and somewhat puckish. 

They were nice, but Yue was…she wasn’t interested, was all (and thinking about the exact reason why she wasn’t interested made her stomach flip over so much that she tried to avoid doing so as best she could).

She shook those thoughts and stored them for later. Right now, there was something else that needed her attention.

Both siblings looked at her at the same time.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Azula said with a shrug.

“Both of you, if that’s all right.” Yue added when Zuko made to leave. “I was thinking about finally training firebending in earnest.” Yue paused, letting that hang in the air for a second. Azula was smiling as if she’d been expecting this, while Zuko looked a little confused, likely perplexed as to why Yue was also telling him this. She turned her eyes fully to him. “I know you also want to meet the ancient firebending masters. I was wondering maybe you’d want some company?”

She had planned on doing it ever since she learned about the ritual; it felt like a natural progression, the next step that made the most sense. Fire was no feeble element. If she were to be honest, the thought of harnessing the element beyond lighting up a manageable fire felt a little daunting. Azula and Ome had gone on and on about the essence of fire, and always it was with a slight air of reverence. She wanted that—needed, really. The Avatar should never do anything by halves.

Azula was smirking. “That’s nice of you, Yue. It would be best if Zuzu had someone to hold his hand to avoid any incident of…accidental leakage.”

She and Zuko stared at her.

“I was talking about Zuko wetting his pants,” Azula said, as if that had been obvious.

“I don’t—” Zuko sucked in a breath. Then, ignoring Azula, he said, “Yue, that sounds like a great idea.”

“Right, then,” Azula said. “I’ll go talk to Chief Ah Mun later.” Azula pointed a finger at Yue. “All you need to do is practice holding your flame.”

Yue was fairly confident about that part. She had been experimenting with her firebending for some time now, calling up her fire in her hands, attempting to control small morsels of flame. They were baby steps, but Azula said that was natural, and that firebending ought not to be rushed. Her friend had guided her through finding her inner fire, that second heartbeat. Their spiritual bond meant that Yue had a small sense of what that felt like, making it easier for her to reach within.

That evening, after she supped with her friends, Azula brought her to the place where she would meet the firebending masters.

The way was jagged and steep. They reached a forest, their pat lit with Azula’s blue fire, and picked their way up to a path leading up. As they climbed, she could tell they were nearing the sea when her nose caught the sharp scent of salt and open, vast space.

They reached the top and it sprung in her vision: two towering rocks, narrow and dark with shadows, stark against the moonlight. A bridge connected the two in the middle, a high stairway leading up to it. Her steps slowed and she dragged her eyes down. The flat surface of the peak was not rocky and uneven like the path they’d climbed to reach it. Her feet stepped onto the circle of flat stone, walled by rough-hewn rock and etched with what looked like a depiction of the sun, with all its curved spears for hands, a scorching flower in bloom. The sun’s likeness glowed silver under her sister’s light.

Azula was regarding her carefully. A breeze fluttered her hair and the tail on top of her head, bound by a strip of leather. To a stranger, Azula’s gilded gaze would seem like a glare, but Yue was one of the people who could tell her intent gaze and a glare apart. The one Azula was giving her now was clearly the former.

“The masters are just right above us,” Azula said to her. “Think of this as me giving you a chance to back down. It would be a mockery to the sanctity of this ritual if you get cold feet right in the middle of it tomorrow.”

Nodding, Yue removed one of her sandals and let the earth speak to her. Though she couldn’t picture them like her earthbending Sifu would be able to, Yue could still sense the faint rumbling breaths of the creatures resting in their caves, could feel their massive coiled bodies. If there was any time for her doubts to creep in, it would be now.

It didn’t come.

Yue would not be shunned when she faced the masters, she knew it as she knew herself to blessed by the Moon. The Moon, whose sister was the Sun.

Much had changed since she left Agna Qel’a.

The smile Azula gave her after she nodded was sharp. “All right then. Let’s work on your ability to actually hold a flame, shall we? I know we’ve been working on it, but one could never be too prepared.” Azula lit up a fire and held it out to Yue like a gift. Yue could make her own, but perhaps Azula was mimicking the ritual.

After a taking a breath, she accepted the proffered fire. Azula poured it into her open palm, orange swallowing up the blue as soon as it touched Yue’s skin, the lightning-pure heat muffled into a quieter warmth.

“You have the temperament fit for a firebender.” 

“Really?” Yue said dubiously. Azula only smiled.

“I used to think you were flimsy, but you’re far from it.” Azula’s mouth curled a little higher. “We’re not so different, you and I.”

In Azula-speak—as Ty Lee had called it—that was probably one of the highest praises she could ever give to someone.

Yue inclined her head, settling for a careful smile. “How so?”

“I think you're someone who wears restraint like a second skin.”

Yue blinked.

“You’re full to the brim with power it’s honestly a marvel that it hasn’t burst out of your body yet.”

It was strange—being assessed so deeply in words spoken as if Azula was making casual commentary about the weather.

“Then I realized,” Azula plunged on, “it’s not that much of a mystery after all. I’ve been doing the same thing since I was old enough to learn self-restraint.”

She had no idea how to respond to that, but Azula seemed more than comfortable with her silence. Between them, the fire in Yue’s hand burned on.

“I hope that’s going to help me tomorrow,” she finally said, her voice light. Nonchalance in the face of something too profound for words. Ironic that it was a trick she’d learned from spending a lot of time with Azula in the past few weeks.

Azula’s features changed into one of a learned sage: blank but for the genuine interest in her eyes. “When you hold a piece of the Eternal Flame,” she said, gaze lowering to her unblinking fire, “think of yourself as a mother cradling her newborn. It is precious as life itself and can be unpredictable in its moods if you don’t handle it carefully. Coddle it too much with your own fire and it will eat up the attention like kindling, neglect it and it will wane or grow cold. Find that balance, and you’ll be fine.” Another smile, smaller and less sharp. “Now, keep that fire going for a while; the breeze is strong enough for that to be challenge. A little practice for tomorrow.”

A minute or so later, they sat beside each other on the flat stone floor in companionable silence. She gazed up at the moon pinned up in the sky, like a half-lidded eye lodged between the two stone peaks. The breeze whispered in Yue’s ears, growing into howls from time to time, threatening and failing to blow out her small fire.

Her mind stilled as if in meditation, content in the quiet and the warmth by her side. Her spiritual bond with Azula was unobtrusive and grounding, like sitting next to a hearth with a slow-going fire.

It was Azula who eventually broke the silence. “You think Katara’s wondering where you are right now?”

“I told her where we’re going before we left.”

“Of course. How foolish of me to presume you don’t tell each other _everything_.”

Yue shoved her lightly in the arm, playing along as if her heart didn’t just threaten to leap out.

“Were you nervous?” she asked Azula, hoping to change the subject. “When you were about to face the ancient masters?”

“Hmm… I guess there was a reasonable degree of nerves involved, but that comes with the weight of the ritual. I wasn’t scared, but I understood the gravity of what I was about to face. Not to mention I was _very_ arrogant when I was eleven. Still am.” Azula raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you nervous?”

“Just a little.” Yue shrugged. “Something like you described just now, I suppose.” 

“A good sign.”

She raised her cupped hands, drawing the fire at eye-level and studying it briefly. Fire was a study of control and balance; it was power in its purest form and careless hands could yield destruction. Yue could start a forest fire with just this small tongue of flame she was holding, let it loose like a hungry beast who fed on dried leaves and wood.

She wouldn’t, though. Like Azula said, she wore restraint like a second skin.

Resting her hands back above her lap, she turned to Azula. “I think we should go back now.”

“Confident with your chances?” Azula’s lips pulled into a smirk when Yue nodded, standing up like a graceful feline.

She didn’t make a comment when Yue kept her fire going as they climbed down and wove through the woods, only allowing it to blink out when they reached their hut.

*****

At eleven, Azula learned that control was an illusion. She learned that despite how hard she had tried to master and perfect herself with such single-mindedness that allowed no lapse, the rest of the world wouldn't bend in her favor. Nothing she did had prevented her old life from sinking along with the ship that was meant drag her to her doom. She had learned, quite abruptly and without warning, while on a rowing boat in the middle of the night, that she was replaceable. After being told all her life that she was born _lucky_ , that her blood held the divine right to rule… learning that was all a lie had left her hollow.

But the truth about hollow things was that they could be filled: a role, a different goal, a repurposed life. Anything she chose.

At eleven, the first thing Azula chose was to learn the truth about fire.

And now she was bearing witness to Yue and Zuko doing the same, for reasons that were different than what had pushed her years ago to do it.

The drums beat in tandem with her chest.

Azula wasn’t worried for Zuko and Yue. They were going to be _fine_. Zuko was as righteous as any boy raised with stories of noble heroes and watched too many theater dramas about said heroes. And Yue, aside from being the Avatar, was spirit-blessed and pure of heart to boot. There was no way, _no way_ , the ancient masters would think they deserved to die.

Then again, incinerating the unworthy was also an offering to the Sun. The ancient masters hadn’t offered the beating fire of human spirits to the Sun in a very long time. Perhaps…

No. Just no.

So Azula was probably a little worried for them after all, if she was actually entertaining vaguely sacrilegious thoughts.

She could feel Katara’s worry. The other girl was walking behind her as they followed Zuko and Yue, who led the small procession with the chief, and unlike Azula’s it was _loud_. Well loud for her at least, because of their spiritual bond that made her catch the occasional geyser of emotions. Other than that, Katara had remained quiet the whole time.

Ty Lee was beside her. She let her friend clutch her hand when they finally reached the top. Azula squeezed her hand, assuring her without words, and held it even when Ty Lee’s hand went clammy.

Lan was flying in circles above them, watching from a distance. He didn’t seem worried. But why would he be? Even if he’d grown quite attached to Yue, he wouldn’t question Ran and Shaw if they destroyed her for daring to seek their wisdom.

She watched as Yue and Zuko climbed up the stairs.

Finally letting go of Ty Lee’s hand, she sank down and prostrated herself on the stone floor. She allowed herself a peek, to gaze up and look over the bowed forms of the sun warriors in front of her.

Ran and Shaw emerged from their caves, as magnificent as the last time Azula saw them.

She watched as Yue and Zuko bowed and sank down on one knee in front of the masters, heads bent low and backs to each other, both holding out the piece of Eternal Flame in their hands like an offering. From a distance, the flames were nothing but pinpoints struggling to stand out against the backdrop of the bright sunlit sky. But it was still there, and Azula saw it float away from their cradles and into Ran and Shaw’s open maws.

Ran and Shaw released their many-colored flames, their secrets spoken in the language of fire. Azula remembered with such vividness the dream-like clarity it brought to her then, when she stood where Yue and Zuko stood now, the way it had suffused her with the Sun’s gifts and wisdom in both body and spirit. Her heart lurched, biting her lip as tears threatened to fall from her widened eyes. It had been one of the greatest moments of her life, and it was coming back to her all over again as if she was living out the memory.

The ritual was over too soon. Ran and Shaw returned to their hallowed shelters, the caves carved by ancestors long gone—the fire-serpents of old—and there stood Yue and Zuko, wiser and more learned than they were before, their worth proclaimed in flame.

Azula shouldn’t have doubted them for a second.

*****

The feast that followed was Ome’s doing. She convinced Chief Ah Mun with lacquered words that the Avatar meeting the ancient masters and learning the ways of the Sun was a good omen—a sign for a more enlightened future for the world, much like Azula’s blessing from the goddess herself was.

Of course, Ome mostly just wanted the guests under her care to get a taste of how Sun Warriors celebrate.

It wasn’t as grand as the Sun festivals and Sun Dances the she had lived to experience in her four years living in the tribe, but it was nonetheless jubilant as any tribe gathering. Elder Gorou led the cooks as they pulled carts that carried pots of stew while Elder Jomei made the apprentices and Jinora hand out flatbread to everyone. The food was all thanks to a successful hunting trip earlier that day—Azula saw the hunters carry wild boars towards Elder Gorou’s hut, one of them with Mai’s kunai lodged in its skull.

The celebration was in full swing the moment the bonfire was lit. As usual, Azula stayed in the sidelines, content to watch with Lan keeping her company.

Muli and Jinora dropped by her spot bearing food and small talk, then left her to herself when a nearby family beckoned them asking for more flatbread. Flavors and spices awash in her tongue as Azula bit into her food; Elder Gorou’s recipe was unbeatable.

She ran her hands idly along Lan’s neck while she ate. Lan had been offered a whole roasted boar just for him, lathered with spices that no human tongue could possibly endure, and Lad had inhaled the whole thing and leaving scraps of bones. Azula was quite aware that her tribe had spoiled her dragon, but she never really bothered to try stopping them.

A Sun Tribe celebration wasn’t a celebration without dancing. The festive rhythm of the drums created a ripple and soon the people began to gather near the bonfire. Azula scanned her eyes across the growing throng. There was Rikai, being dragged by a laughing Ome. She kept her eyes on them for a while before something else caught her attention: Zuko and Sokka, pushed forward by Toph and Suki. They stuck out in the middle of the dancing crowd—Sokka in blue and Zuko with his sheepish smile. Katara, who hadn’t left Yue’s side since the end of the ritual, shouted something at them that incited cheers from the others. Whatever it was, it spurred her brother to take both of Zuko’s hands and lead him into a dance that, well, it wasn’t quite Sun Warrior—water tribe, maybe. It didn’t matter because Zuko was letting the other boy to drag him around, and Azula laughed as she watched her brother keep up like a stiff plank in a windstorm.

Zuko, the brother she used to perceive as nothing but a shell of weakness and sadness and uncontrolled temper, was _dancing,_ hand in hand with a boy he was so clearly smitten with and beaming without a care in the world. And he was grinning like an idiot. There were very few sights that could possibly anger Ozai more than what Azula was seeing now.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her neck.

If it weren’t for the familiar scent that came with the hug—like freshly cut peonies—Azula would’ve landed a bone-cracking blow to whoever was foolish enough to catch her unawares like that. But it was only Ty Lee.

Sudden bursts of physical affection were a staple when one had a friend like Ty Lee. Mai took it as if she’d long resigned to her fate, Zuko pretended not to be pleased by it, Toph tolerated it most of the time, the rest would reciprocate in their own way. As for Azula, it was complicated.

She was, in a way, used to it, and at the same time also not. But she _did_ like it when Ty Lee leapt at her out of nowhere for a hug or grabbed her hand without hesitation whenever it struck her fancy. It was logical, then, to assume that Ty Lee being clingy was not an issue at all—and therein lay the dilemma. Most of the time, or perhaps every time, Azula had to fight off a rather annoying bout of increased heartrate and an inexplicable urge to cling right back.

Like now.

“Why are you all the way out here!” said Ty Lee, disentangling herself from Azula so she can move in front of her.

“It’s my usual spot.”

“What, like some party guard?”

“I’m comfortable here.” 

Ty Lee’s smile turned ponderous. She looked at Lan for a second, eyes lighting up a little, then back to Azula again. With an airy gesture, she made her scoot over. Azula obliged and Ty Lee sat down beside her on the upturned wooden crate she used as a makeshift chair.

They were quiet for a while, arms and thighs touching, surrounded by jovial noises. She wished Ty Lee would grow bored eventually and go back to the others. She also wished she’d stay with her for the rest of the feast.

“What’s that?”

Azula followed her gaze. Ham Ghao was carrying a large steel ring. Two others erected to wooden poles on either side of the bonfire. “Oh, they’re doing it.”

“What’s _it_.”

“Just a little demonstration.”

“Like a performance?”

“More like a traditional show of skill, but sure. A performance.”

The ring was secured with ropes tied into the poles and it dangled a few feet above the bonfire. The crowd had retreated back, leaving only two people in the inner circle.

When Azula saw that one of them was her brother, she laughed, a surprised and amused sound.

She heard Ty Lee gasp. “Is Zuko…?”

“It looks like it.” She grinned. Zuko never told her he was planning on doing this, but it was likely an impulsive decision. She doubted he knew about this ritual before today anyway.

“Is he about to do what I think he’s about to do?”

“Depends if you think he’s going to try propelling himself to jump over the bonfire and through that ring.”

Azula expected her to be worried, but Ty Lee seemed delighted. “Like one of those guys at the circus!”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not some circus trick Ty Lee. You're disparaging a generations-old tradition.”

“Oh no. That's not what I meant.” Ty Lee shook her head. “It's just that I know someone who does that. Well, not _that_. That’s some really difficult Sun Warrior demonstration thing, like you said.”

“You know someone who jumps through rings?”

“Yeah! His name’s Guo Lei and he’s really good! I actually… almost ran away with him.”

“You _what_?”

Ty Lee chuckled, rubbing the nape of her neck. “He was with the travelling circus. You know, the one that would perform at the palace for you and Zuko?”

She nodded, frowning a little.

“I always went and watched and I made friends with Guo Lei and the others. They were nice, and they said I could come with them to tour the Earth Kingdom. They needed a new trapeze artist and I impressed them enough. But then I— I didn’t go through it.”

Azula swallowed her initial question— _Why in Agni’s name would you run away to join a circus?_ —and instead asked: “Why didn’t you?”

“Zuko was about to be sent to the North Pole and Mai was coming with him.” Ty Lee lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug, not quite managing to undercut the way her voice had lowered. “The circus was always going to come back. But if something bad happened to my friends, or if I wasn’t there to mediate when Zuko and Mai butted heads again and, like, end their friendship or something terrible like that, I would always regret not coming.” She gave another shrug and beamed at Azula. “Then Zuko met Sokka and now we’re here.”

Azula struggled groped at words to respond to that. She was saved from having to do so when Chief Ah Mun’s booming voice addressed the crowd, drawing both of their attention to him.

The chief stood next to Zuko, a few paces from the bonfire. He raised a hand; the entire gathering hushed like a retreating wave. “Today, we witnessed the ancient masters proclaim Yue, the moon-blessed Avatar, and Zuko, descendant of the warlords, worthy of the ways of the Sun.” He paused, allowing scattered cheers to momentarily fill the silence. “As custom permits, those who have met the ancient masters may choose to perform one of our age-old ritual to demonstrate their newly acquired prowess as way of showing gratitude to the goddess. Zuko,” his voice rose higher, “has volunteered to leap through the ring of fire!”

Ham Ghao’s fist spat out a bullet of fire towards the ring. It spread and engulfed the ring in flames. The cheers and chants grew louder now, a note of challenge in their eagerness. Azula looked closely at her brother. His features looked stoic, which was clear even from afar.

“We have to get close—”

Before she could finish that thought, Ty Lee was already pulling Azula to her feet.

*****

When the feast began, the fire had served as the beating heart of the celebration. Now, the sky was dim enough that the bright orange was almost oppressive, and the sight of Zuko stretching right in front of it filled Katara with dread.

Without looking away from Zuko, she gave her brother a hard shove to the shoulder.

“Hey!”

“Why did you make him do this?!”

“I didn’t!” Sokka held up his hands defensively. “That Ham Ghao guy told him while we were taking a break from dancing!”

Toph chimed in, “Relax, Sugar Queen. He’s got this. It’s not like they’re going to let Sparky drop in that fire and get roasted like a turtleduck anyway.”

“That’s happened before, actually.” They all turned to find Azula joining them with Ty Lee. “It was a long time ago, way before I came her. Purely accidental. Point is, there is precedence for that scenario.”

“How is any of that helpful?”

“Should I… go and perform the ritual with him?” Yue asked, hesitant.

“Please don’t,” she pleaded the same time as Azula said, “Absolutely not.” Relief was etched on Yue’s face as she promptly nodded.

Azula said, “Zuko’s fairly capable of jet propulsion, and I’ve seen Sun Warriors younger than him pull this off. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Across the now empty inner circle, save for Zuko, Jinora waved her arms at them. Once she got their attention, she swept her hand towards the ring of fire, made a circular gesture, then pointed to Zuko.

“What is she saying?” said Sokka. 

“She’s obviously trying to tell us she’s going airbend Zuko to safety if something bad happens,” Mai told him.

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“It was obvious.”

“Guys,” said Suki, “he’s about to do it.”

Toph pumped her fist. “Yeah, you show ‘em Zuko!”

Zuko had retreated to the edge of the inner circle. Katara watched him take a deep breath, his whole body rising and falling, then—

He darted forward with a running start before he leaped. His fists and feet let out jets of fire, pushing himself off the ground. He surged like lava spewed out from a volcano’s crater. He flipped mid-air so he could pass through the ring with his feet first, and landed with only a slight stumble when his feet met the ground.

Katara breathed a sigh of relief as cheers erupted. Sokka and Toph ran to Zuko and all but tackled him.

The ring was kept standing above the bonfire after that. A few Sun Warriors jumped through the ring themselves, their stunts getting more elaborate with each try, and soon they made a game of pulling the most impressive way of doing it. After a dare from Suki, Azula herself stepped up to do it.

“Go, Azula!” Ty Lee blew her a kiss. 

Azula swirled both arms, like she was carefully drawing a circle in the air with both hands, two fingers sticking out. Instead of her bright blue flames, sparks emitted from her fingers. After another circular motion, she shoved her arms down and aimed her fingers to the ground.

A loud, nearly deafening blast came with the bright bluish white flash.

Katara narrowly stopped her jaw from dropping as Azula shot up like one of Jinora’s slanted wind blades. Her ascent didn’t stop even as she got through the flaming ring. She craned her neck to watch Azula let gravity slow her and pull her down, before a cloud of flames from her palms and feet softened her fall. The fire smoke cleared to reveal Azula dusting herself off casually.

“Tui and La,” Yue murmured beside her.

If this had truly been a game, Azula was clearly the victor.

Azula was walking back to them when a beaming Ome suddenly grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up to her shoulder, laughing as she did so. Amid the cheers and the uproarious beating of the drums, the dancing resumed.

People drew closer to the fire like currents and the empty space was again filled with tribespeople, smiling faces lit golden. Before Katara knew it, she and Yue were the only ones in their group still sitting.

Something caught her eye, drawing her attention from the throng of chaotic joy in front of her. Yue was fiddling with her bracelet—walrus tusk carved by one of her village’s finest craftsmen, circling Yue’s slender, graceful wrist. It was pale against her brown skin.

When Katara gave that to her, they’d only known each other for three days. It was out of impulse. They had trained for the good part of the morning and for some reason, Katara couldn’t bring herself to stop getting distracted by her wrists. So, as they were trotting along the busy streets on their way to Yue’s favorite eating house, she removed the bracelet she’d worn that day and gave it to her.

Impulse had helped her before, she couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t now.

“Let’s go dance.”

Yue smiled like someone who’d been waiting to be asked. Katara took her by the hand and led her towards the dancing crowd. 

They got lost in the quick steps of the dance, both of them slipping between water tribe dances and the Sun Warrior moves they picked up from the people around them. They parted at arm’s length only to pull each other close again, laughing as they twirled, grinning as they moved their feet in fluctuating rapidity. Never did Katara stray far from the hallowed ground around Yue. Arms flailed about around her, shoulder brushing against her own, but Yue remained her center as they let the dance carry them both through the sea of bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I want to sink into your arms and feel the festival and the firelight._  
>  —Virginia Woolf in a letter to Vita Sackville-West, c. March 1931


	11. interlude

Something wasn’t right.

There was scarcely anyone in the Kyoshi Island port, not even old man Hongbo—whose roasted fish stand was boarded shut, the sign barely clinging with only one nail keeping it up.

“No one would tell me anything,” said Pebble. He seemed spooked. “I think we should talk to Oyaji.”

“No, no, let’s not trouble the man.” Whatever was happening, or had happened, there was only one person they should speak to.

Narra left the others to man the ship and took Pebble with her.

Her neck prickled as she and Pebble made their way to the compound. The whole village was quiet. Instead of friendly faces greeting her, they were met by windows closed and people scurrying back to their homes as if they weren't supposed to stay outside for too long. 

The compound was empty.

“W– we should go inside,” Pebble suggested, though he sounded like he’d much rather not.

Slowly, they walked up to the house. Narra tapped at the latticework of the door, the sound echoing in the quiet. “Keiko?” she called, “are you in there?”

“Narra?” a voice answered. Definitely not Keiko’s. The door slid open to reveal Meiling, one of the Kyoshi Warriors, wearing plain clothes with one of her war fans held in one hand.

“Meiling, where are—”

“They took her,” Meiling rasped, lowering her weapon. “The soldiers took her. She wouldn’t tell them anything, so they took her.”

A clump of thorn lodged itself in her chest. “Who? What soldiers?”

In that moment, her face devoid of paint and hardly holding back her dread, Meiling looked younger than Narra had ever seen her. “Fire Nation soldiers. I don’t how but they’d learned about the prince being here. We think it was probably the travelling merchants who came when you arrived who saw Zuko and told them. My sisters—they're in the mainland trying seek aid from all of Keiko’s allies. We can’t face the Fire Lord alone.”

The rest of what Meiling was saying faded into hollow noise as a searing rage, old and fossilized but one she’d carried her whole life, filled her mind until nothing else was there except for old, painful memories. She struggled to breathe. Pebble was on her the moment he caught the telltale signs of it—a large hand gently holding her arm, another on her shoulder coaxing her down. She sat in a panting heap and gripped Pebble’s arm like a lifeline.

*****

When Narra was barely an adult herself when she lost everything.

Her mother grew up a pirate, but chose the peaceful life of a law-abiding sailor after she’d accumulated enough wealth from her years of plundering to get her own ship. Her father was from the Fire Navy, whose early career had involved chasing her mother around to put her to justice. They fell in love, because love was a peculiar thing. It didn’t make sense to most people when her father gave up the navy to be with my mother, but it did to the two of them. And that was enough.

But that wasn’t the whole story.

Her father was Captain Kenshiro. He was one of Prince Ozai's personal foot soldiers, men plucked out of obscurity to enforce his will. He was loyal to Ozai before he became Fire Lord—after all, the prince had been the one to propel him to a high rank in the navy faster than what was normal for a man of humble birth like Kenshiro. For some time, he did Prince Ozai’s dirty work. Politics, all of it, a bloody business. Bloodier than Kenshiro had expected. So, when conscience eventually caught up to Kenshiro, he struck a deal with an old enemy and, occasionally, a friend: Kina, the pirate-turned-law-abider. Kina was supposed to only grant him passage from his home island in the Fire Nation to the Southern part of the Earth Kingdom in exchange for money. Ozai would never let those who knew his secrets get away, but the Earth Kingdom was a vast place; he could hide amongst the people there and be invisible.

But the sea called to Kenshiro. And Kina—she was too beautiful, too _magnificent_ , too rare a woman.

A few years later and the threat of Ozai soon became nothing but a faraway noise drowned by his joy. They had Narra, and business was doing good enough to give them a comfortable life at sea.

It all changed one day when, while the _Orca_ was docked at Cranefish town, a flock of wretched things came to ruin Narra’s perfect life.

At that point, they had started hearing rumors about those abominations—winged creatures, who had once been of the earth and so rare that it had turned to myth. Somehow Ozai had gotten his hands on one, then made it into something else by some twisted means of human obtrusion, made it smaller and grow wings and feathers to be more efficient at catching Ozai’s enemies, made lethal with beaks slick with poison.

A flock of them found her father. They descended upon him, a dozen or more, spitting poison on every inch of his flesh. Her mother was with him when it happened. 

Narra had returned to their ship that day after roaming around town with Pebble. It was good that he was there. Narra didn’t know what she would’ve done if she came back to the dead bodies of her parents—most of their skin scaled open by poison stings, slumped against each other, together in death just as in life—with no one there to shake her from her shock. To hold her in lieu of her dead parents as she convulsed in horrified, sorrowful, gasping sobs as any child would in that moment. 

*****

Meiling handed her a cup of water. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Narra waved her hand, telling her without words that she had nothing to apologize for.

“Should… should we do something?”

It was Pebble who asked. Kind, selfless Pebble, who stuck with her even though she’d been responsible for that stupid nickname when she was a child. Narra swallowed the lump in her throat. This was not a time for tears. Later, when she returned to her quarters with the sound of the waves to carry her sobs away, maybe then she could permit herself to cry.

“We’ll write to the Avatar,” she said. Her voice was unsteady, but her resolve was firm as the iron of her ship. “We have to warn them.”

*****

A Fire Lord had many faces.

It was both archaic and inexorable, this multiplicity that came with the crown, with power and having the fortitude to maintain it. But it would take a lot more than that to be able to spread the reaches of that power—to let it grow from a blaze to an inferno he alone could command.

While his brother played at being the charming prince in his youth and grew into a useless loon, Ozai had mastered the faces of the Fire Lord. While Iroh was gallivanting about chasing pleasures and superficial glory, Ozai had attended councils in their father’s side, had watched his father rule and had thought about all the _right_ things Fire Lord Azulon did as the Fire Lord while also plotting how he could do _better_.

His dear daughter had been much the same. A waste of potential, that one. She could have been of use to him. Instead he was stuck with his firstborn. Ozai couldn’t care less about his son, but a Fire Lord needed an heir, or at least he needed the boy to appear as one for now. As soon as Ozai was done with his plans, getting himself a new heir would not take much. Zuko was simply an ornament he needed while he carried out his plans.

Of course, the useless boy decided to disappear when Ozai needed him most. It was against ancient laws, ones that even he himself could not make null, for a Fire Lord to go to war without having secured an heir—the history of the Fire Nation was replete with succession-crises, a spectacle neither his ancestors nor the Fire Sages of old had an appetite for—an heir who was _present_ and not missing. 

He walked through the dark corridors of Capital prison, scornful thoughts about his son running through his mind before he calmed it down. When he finally reached the cell, he put one of the Fire Lord’s many masks, this one edged with shadow and cold fire that Ozai had always felt most comfortable wearing.

The woman had her back turned to him, her green kimono tattered and her hair unbound. “I’m not giving you anything,” the woman muttered as if by rote. Her voice was weak, but there was still some fight in there. Ozai wanted to snuff it out.

“Oh, I know you won’t.”

The woman’s whole body tensed when she heard his voice.

“I am not here to ask you questions, Kyoshi Warrior.”

“What, you just decided to personally pay me a visit?” the earth barbarian spat. “I’m honored, Fire Lord Ozai.”

He didn’t need to see her in person, that was true. But without Zuko to lash his frustrations at, getting to see the woman’s reaction would have to do. He said, “You are no longer useful to me. But, in exchange for your lack of cooperation, I’ll give you update you on the recent change of plans.” He paused for a moment, letting fear fester before landing a strike. “Have you heard of shirshu vultures?”

Her silence and the stiffening of her posture told him she had.

“It was a project of the late Fire Lord Azulon,” he went on, “but he didn’t have the stomach to push it through. Animal experimentation was unholy, he’d said.” Ozai scoffed. “I continued it behind his back, of course. I’m sure you’ve heard stories about them. I wasn't going to waste them on Zuko, but you left me no choice.”

With such speed the woman spun and darted forward, crashing against her cell and grabbing onto the bars as if she intended to bend them open with her bare hands, fiery brown eyes meeting his. Too bad she was an earth barbarian; he would’ve squeezed out some use out of that brute savagery. 

“If you hurt those children, I will—”

He cut her off with a sharp laugh. “You are my prisoner, soon to stand in trial and be executed—or we could skip the trial if you so desire to die.” _And I will make Zuko watch so he knows exactly what happens to those he sought help from to defy me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	12. shadow

Yue was running through a basic dragon set with the sun above and her daughter on the ground as her audience. Her focus slipped for a split-second, accidentally skipping a sequence. Aware of her Sifu’s critical eye, she tried to cover up the error by overcompensating the next, miscalculated, and put too much force in her step.

Needless to say, her mind wasn’t in it.

“Stop.” Azula’s voice cut through the air. “Again.”

She started from the top.

Her Sifu stopped her again with a sharp flick of her hand.

“Your thoughts are clouded all over,” Azula told her. “Your fire would be all of over the place if you were actually bending right now. What’s going on?”

Gathering her breath, she tried not to let her shoulders droop by straightening up her posture. “I don’t know,” she said after she’d exhaled. “It’s been like this since I woke up.”

“If you’re not well, we can—”

“No, no, I’m all right,” Yue said right away. Azula _hated_ it when she pushed herself even when she was hurting. (Yue had an idea why that was the case but it was too sad a thought to linger on.)

She said, “I’m fine. I’m just…distracted.”

Azula’s face pinched. “We should call it a day. You can meditate later at sunset.”

The walk back to their huts was quiet. It would’ve been pleasant if it weren’t for the churning feeling in her chest and gut.

Yue truly was well, though. Things had been excellent this past couple of weeks. Firebending made her feel _alive_ in a way that felt new; her training made her mind sharper and her body more agile. On their first day, Azula did a little demonstration. ( _Lala, always a show off_ , Zuko had said with a grin, which fell right off his face when he barely deflected the fireball Azula threw at him.) She showed Yue the _Dancing Dragon_ —power and grace distilled into the basic and majestic forms of Sun Warrior bending. Yue had thought then, in that moment, that even the best firebending teacher that the Fire Nation could offer to send to the North if she’d stayed in the city could never hold a candle to this.

Azula led her to the hut she shared with Rikai and Ome, made her sit in a tone that brooked no argument, and disappeared into the small kitchen without a word. Yue leaned against her chair. She sighed as the unmistakable aroma of the hot drink the Sun Warriors favored reached her nose—it was dark and slightly bitter, slightly frothy, mixed it with ground corn and chilli. Yue had developed quite a taste for it.

Azula came back bearing two large steaming cups. “Drink up, it’ll make you feel better,” she said as she handed one to Yue, then sat down with her own cup.

“I’m fine.”

“Physically, perhaps.”

Yue took a swig of her drink. The warmth passing through her chest and down to her belly as she gulped, coupled with the rich smell, was soothing.

“So, out with it, then,” Azula said before taking a sip from her own cup. She eyed Yue through the rim, her gaze unintentionally piercing. There was no getting out of this hut without Yue telling her.

“I just…I feel like I’m anxious about something.”

“Ah.” Azula set her cup down. “Does it, by chance, have anything to do with Katara?”

“Why would it?” Yue’s brow knitted.

“No reason,” Azula said right away, waving her hand as if to banish that thought. “Did you have trouble with your breathing exercises this morning?”

“A little.”

Azula stared at her cup, thinking. “Maybe we should bring in Jinora for meditation later,” she said. “If you still don’t feel any better by tomorrow and it’s not some spirit business, you should go to the healing house. Or perhaps spend a few hours in one of the steam baths. I recommend the latter.”

“…Wouldn’t that be a bit much? It’s probably just nothing.”

“You’re at the early stages of your training, Yue. We can’t have you build the base of your firebending while having some sort of mental fog. Your performance today was abysmal and I know for a fact that you could do better.”

Yue nodded. She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted when the door flung open.

Rikai strode inside. “I’ve been looking for the two of you,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” Azula asked as she stood, reading something in Rikai’s face that made her posture visibly tighten.

“A messenger hawk came. It’s addressed to you.” Rikai was looking at her with fraught eyes. “It’s from Narra.”

*****

Katara was kicking up dust as she rushed to the chief’s meeting hall. A layer of sweat mingled with condescend cleansing steam and the scent of herbal oils that had clung to her skin after spending over an hour at the healing house. One of the apprentices had told her that Rikai was urgently asking for her presence; the harried-looking boy wasn’t even done speaking when Katara walked past him and out of the healing house.

She had no clue what was happening, but if Rikai said it was _urgent_ …

Ty Lee nearly bumped into her. “Katara!”

She steadied herself by briefly grabbing onto Ty Lee’s arm. “Are Yue and Azula inside?” she asked.

“Rikai left to get them,” said Ty Lee, wringing her hands. “Zuko is also out looking for Mai and Toph and Sokka. He’s taking so long. Suki inside and she’s— I don’t know how to— I don’t even know what to _say_ let alone—”

“All right, slow down a little,” she said as gently as she could. “Tell me what happened.”

“She… got a letter from a messenger hawk”— _what?_ —“and Rikai told her not to read it until we’re all there but she—”

The door to the hall suddenly burst open, making the two of them jump. Suki was marching out with her head down, Elder Jomei appearing behind her, concern clear on the old man’s face. But Suki only took off running.

Katara was about to follow Suki when a hand landing on her shoulder made her stop. She spun on her heel and saw Rikai standing behind her. “I’ll go talk to her,” she said. “You head inside with Yue and Azula.”

With that, Rikai went after Suki in quick strides.

Yue came up to her side. “D’you know what’s going on?”

“I’m as lost as you are.”

Elder Jomei finally saw them and beckoned them to come inside. Jinora stood up as soon as they entered the hall. Ome and the chief, who looked as though they’d been deep in a conversation, turned their gazes up at them. Their grave expressions seem to forebode something unpleasant. Katara swallowed before bowing at the chief.

Elder Jomei explained how his apprentice—the boy who’d come to get her, it turned out—saw a messenger hawk that morning. It was carrying two scrolls: one for Yue, and the other for Suki.

When Ome handed a small scroll to Yue, she noticed the broken seal.

The chief spoke up. “We inspect any message from outsiders; it’s a matter of precaution. None should even have come here in the first place, unless a messenger hawk had somehow wandered off course.”

Yue gave him a nod as she unfurled the letter. Katara leaned closer to Yue the same time as Azula, and Ty Lee was peeking over Yue’s shoulder. Katara read through the scant contents of the message silently:

_Moonchild,_

_Arrived in the island where we met. Our mutual friend K was taken by the princeling’s father. You need to leave before he pays you a visit._

_—N_

Only one person had ever called Yue _moonchild_ —the same person who refused to call Zuko by his name, had insisted on calling him _princeling_.

“No one understood what it said before they showed it to Rikai,” Ome told them. “The other scroll was in some complicated code, but Rikai deciphered enough of the contents to know it was for Suki… It was in Keiko’s personal cipher.”

 _Our mutual friend K_ , it said.

“There must be a mistake,” Azula said, snatching the scroll from Yue’s hands. “For all we know, the captain was drunk when she wrote this. Perhaps this is what passed as humor amongst sailors.”

“ _Azula_.”

“Of all people, Ome, you’re the last one I’d expect to abandon good sense and jump to conclusions.”

“And the other letter?” Ome countered. “The one Rikai painstakingly tried to decode? The one that made your friend so upset that she stormed out? How can your _good sense_ explain that?”

That silenced Azula. She handed the message back to Yue, who took it carefully with fingers trembling ever so slightly. “What are we going to do?” she asked, meeting the eyes of every person in the room. She looked to Katara last.

“If your ally knew your destination before you set out on your voyage,” said Chief Ah Mun, “my priority is to protect the tribe should the Fire Lord set his sights here in search of his heir.”

“Keiko won’t—”

“He’ll try to pry it out of her,” Azula muttered from beside her, voice dimmed yet sharp as a spike. “Ozai always gets what he wants.”

*****

Azula had to watch Yue swear to Chief Ah Mun that the Sun Tribe would have the Avatar’s protection, should they ever need it. She had to watch Zuko, when he arrived, bow like a peasant and asked for forgiveness with all his chest, blaming himself as though everything was his fault. She watched Chief Ah Mun take it all with stoic warmth, gracious and sensible, just as any true Sun Warrior would.

Azula took it all in with permeating dread.

“I’ll go back,” Zuko suddenly said. “Keiko, our friend—she won’t give away information about where we are. I can assure you that.” He waited for Chief Ah Mun to acknowledge that before continuing. “That’s why I have to go. The only way to stop my father from harming her and prevent any chance of him finding the tribe is for me to return to my nation,” he said, looking at the chief but addressing everyone in earshot, and for one absurd moment Azula was taken back to her fragmented memories of a younger Zuko—training with his bending and his swords, striving to be better. Always, _always_ trying. “I’m the one who Father wants back.”

Four years ago such a pronouncement would trigger a scorching envy from Azula. Ozai had raised the two of them to compete for his favor after all, before he eventually starved Zuko of it once he realized he was a lost cause. 

“You’re not doing that,” were the words that came out of Azula.

Zuko’s eyes flickered over to her. A flicker of apology before grim determination took over again. “I have to, Azula.”

He sounded resolute. It made her feel sick.

Despite knowing what Ozai did to her and despite spending more years living in the same palace as him, Zuko was still horrifyingly naive about what the Fire Lord was capable of inflicting upon his children.

Katara was driveling on about gratitude and helping friends in peril when Azula finally slipped out of the hall. She wanted to get out of there. She _had_ to, before she—

“Azula?”

She skidded to a halt. It was Ty Lee. “I’m just going to see Lan,” she said without turning around. “I have to start patrolling.”

“Azula, it’s still noon.” Light footsteps approached her.

“I just needed some fresh air.”

She resumed walking, aware that Ty Lee was following her but not trusting herself to tell her friend to leave her alone without sharpening her words to cut. Cruelty was a base instinct, a defense she couldn’t entirely rid herself off, and it clumped in her throat seeking for release. She sometimes wondered whether it was Ozai’s doing or something innate to her.

Ozai… he just wouldn’t leave her _alone_. Even now. 

She’d only just started to learn not to notice his shadow whenever she looked at Zuko. And now…

The world blurred except for the well-trodden path before her. She couldn’t tell whether Ty Lee was still following, or if the tribespeople greeting her and calling out her name were real or just phantoms created by her addled mind. When she reached her destination—a cave near the village where Lan rests before their patrols—she rested her hand against the rough surface of the edge of the cave’s mouth, taking deep inhalations to settle her lungs and regain control of herself. She hadn’t had one of these sudden bouts for a very long time.

A hand carefully took hers, the one she’d left dangling at her side. And peonies, fresh peonies—a smell caressing her nose like a gentle call, calming and grounding. From inside the cave, she heard Lan rouse from his indulgent rest and let out a low grumble—a basic semaphore between them, one that signaled concern.

She finally gathered her composure, her breaths regaining harmony. She spared a throaty hum for Lan and turned to face Ty Lee. She was met with a concerned frown, pink lips pursed and brows curled up in the middle.

“Why did you follow me?”

Ty Lee chewed at her lip. “I was watching you when we were inside the hall and you— please don’t take this the wrong way, but you didn’t look okay.”

“My comfort should be the least of your worries. Your friend was taken by Ozai.”

“I know, but—” Ty Lee gave her hand a squeeze. “You really weren’t looking good.” That ought to have bruised her ego. She prided herself for having a perfect handle with what emotion she wanted people to see. “I know your— I know the Fire Lord is a touchy subject and I thought… Rikai and Mai are with Suki right now and Zuko’s with the others. I just thought you would want some company, at least.”

“That’s laughably presumptuous of you,” she scoffed, wrenching her hand from Ty Lee’s. “I don’t need you to hold my hand just because I feel uncomfortable. We’re not children anymore.”

She watched Ty Lee’s concern crumble from her sweet face, skittering away like a spooked animal, leaving behind a tense silence and a hint of hurt in her eyes.

An apology sat at Azula’s tongue but she didn’t give it voice. Instead, she looked away and stared hard at the slab of rock in front of her. She heard rather than saw Ty Lee shuffle away.

Lan’s head peeked out and nudged her softly. There wasn’t much that a dragon’s eyes could convey by way of overt emotions but Azula knew Lan as if he were a part of her, and she to him. She felt him judging her—not for what she did, but for what she didn’t do.

Ty Lee hadn’t gone far when Azula called out to her.

“I’m sorry,” Azula said, the words leaping out of her with surprising ease. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” She cut off that lie before it took root.

When Ty Lee finally turned around and walked back Azula.

She found herself, for possibly the first time except for the day they met when they were young girls, utterly clueless as to what Ty Lee’s expression meant. The momentary mystique faded and a small smile took its place, easy enough to read. “It’s okay,” Ty Lee said, “you can always make up for it.”

She likely said it to ease their conversation back to steady ground, but Azula took it as an obligation requiring her immediate attention. Focusing on a goal always did make her thoughts settle.

Lan drew Ty Lee’s attention away from her. She watched as Ty Lee idly held her hand out to him, close but not touching, with a short bow of her head. It was how people usually greeted Lan. He pushed his snout playfully against the open palm in front of him, drawing a small giggle from Ty Lee giggle. It didn’t ring as brightly, as joyfully, as her laughter usually did.

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

Ty Lee’s smile melted off her face as she nodded.

“I met her once.” Azula continued. She could hardly remember meeting Keiko except for a faint image of a tall woman whose robes had sleeves too short for her arms. “Rikai has spoken about her often, too.”

“You’d love her, I’m sure,” Ty Lee said. “I really hope she’s okay.”

Azula didn’t have assurances to offer her, and given how Keiko’s safety hinged on Ozai’s retrieval of his heir the thought brought a whorl of conflicted feelings in Azula’s chest. Knowing what she did now made her realize that the tension Rikai had radiated earlier was from a well of concern and fear.

This was what Ozai did—casting shadows on other people’s fire so his would burn the brightest. Azula no longer thrived in shadows, not since she knew what true fire was, but she still knew them as keenly as when Ozai had taught her how to wield them, like a scar that would forever mark her.

“I’ll be accompanying Zuko.”

It took a moment before it sunk in to Ty Lee. “What?”

This was who Azula was— _Sapphire sun,_ fire that burned too hot that it feared neither darkness nor shadow, both of whom were old friends.

 _If Ozai is_ so _determined to ruin her life even when he thinks I’m dead_ , _it’s only polite to return the favor._

“It doesn’t take an army to stage a coup,” she said, shaping an idea in her head like an ancient sun architect drawing up sun temples. The more she spoke the wider Ty Lee’s eyes got. “Zuko can be my way in. Rikai still has allies”—her little club who spoke in poetic codes, who were likely incensed by her Uncle’s death, an anger she could use to her advantage—“and Ozai won’t see me coming. I’ll have the element of surprise.” Her smile finally broke free. “We can get your Kyoshi Islander friend safe and place Zuko on the throne with one strike.”

Ty Lee was quiet for a while, staring at her. “You want to make sure Zuko’s safe,” she said, all soft and genuine.

Her impulse was to vehemently deny it. She could lie through a smile, tell Ty Lee that she couldn’t care less about what happened to her brother; what he got out of his own stupidity was certainly not her concern.

And yet.

“I’m only seizing an opportunity.”

Ty Lee was still looking at her with that earnest, open look on her face.

“I’ll help you.”

Azula contained the sudden rising warmth in her chest by quickly adjusting plausible strategies with Ty Lee in the equation. Her smirk grew. “That’ll make things far easier.”

*****

Katara held Yue’s hand as they made their way back to their hut, their footfalls heavy against sun-dry earth. Ahead of them walked Suki with Mai beside her, Rikai and Ome at the front leading their little solemn procession. Her brother was at their tail, quietly talking to Zuko, Toph and Jinora. His sighs in-between imperceptible words, the occasional hisses of breath, stoked at Katara’s already tense nerves.

“I think we should all have a talk,” Ome spoke as she practically herded them inside their hut. Katara left her slippers by the door and looked to her. Ome stuck close to Rikai, a warrior’s edge in the set of her jaw. Her eyes were laced with hints of her usual warmth as if she couldn’t help but let that part of her peek out, like sunbeams through the flimsy shade of a tree.

Inside, they gathered in a half circle. Katara sat in her heels close to Yue.

Ome spoke first. “If Rikai and I aren’t here, I’m certain that one way or another you’d all be bending your heads together right now and hatching a plan to rescue your friend,” she said. The rings in her fingers clicked together as she clasped her hands.

“Well,” said Toph, “you’re not wrong.”

“It’s not a reprimand, I’m saying I want to help.”

“Ome,” said Rikai, just as surprised as the rest of them.

“I know none of you will let Zuko offer himself up like an animal for slaughter,” Ome went on, “and I haven’t known you kids for long, but I know loyalty when I see it. Either we try to stop you, or I go with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Azula said. Katara turned towards the doorway and saw her with Ty Lee. They stepped inside. “I’m going with them.”

“All the more reason for me to come with you.”

“This isn’t your fight, Ome.”

“A Sun Warrior won’t let her charge mount a rescue in the heart of a nation whose ruler wouldn’t think twice about murdering children.”

Zuko finally spoke up. “Why are we even talking about this?” he said. “I made it clear that I’m going back to my father so none of you would ever have to…” He sighed sharply. “This is my fault. Let me fix it.”

Azula scoffed at that. “What? Are you expecting that if you come back home, he’s going to just pat you on the back and let pass the fact that you ran away?”

“I know it’s not that simple—”

“Then why are being so naive about this?” Azula would’ve seemed imploring if not for the stern set of her features. “Ozai will think of the worst punishment for your disobedience while still having an heir intact. That’s all he needs, an heir in one piece—it doesn’t matter if you’re broken.”

The room fell quiet.

“Who knows, he might even hurt your friend to try teaching you a lesson.”

Katara heard a sharp intake of breath near her. She didn’t have to look to know that it came from Suki.

Jinora cleared her throat, drawing all eyes to her. “If I may,” she began, voice made to soothe as if she was about to guide them to a meditative state, “I think we could seek help from my people from the Western Air Temple. We can go there and write to the Fire Lord from there to assure him that Zuko will return. We can have the head nuns to attest that we are telling the truth, and to ensure the Fire Lord cooperates.”

“And what difference would that make, exactly?” asked Azula.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, the Western Air Temple’s council of head nuns are highly regarded in the Fire Nation. We can be—diplomatic about this. We can ask for your friend, Keiko, to be safely returned to her home island before Zuko comes back to the capital, perhaps with an escort as well.”

“So you want us to bargain with Ozai?”

“Well, with the head nuns’ help—”

“You’re clearly underestimating who we’re dealing with here,” chided Azula, “and what he’s capable of doing. He’ll swat at you’re peace-loving people like flies if he decides he needs to be rid of them.”

“Actually—” Rikai said, head tilted to the side in thought, “That’s a brilliant idea.”

“Really?” said Azula and Jinora at the same time, one dubious and the other pleased.

“Like Jinora said, it’s the diplomatic approach. A third party as influential and prominent as the head nuns will make all the difference.”

“I think you’re forgetting something crucial, Rikai,” Azula told her pointedly.

“I don’t think so,” replied Rikai. “I think _you_ are the one who’s forgetting something. Like the danger you’ll be putting yourself in if you show your face to the Fire Nation?”

“For spirits’ sake, this isn’t about me! I was talking about the invasion! He’s not going to hesitate to attack the Air temple to demand his son back.”

“You know every well what Ozai’s plan is. He won’t risk showing hostility against another nation before the comet. If the Earth king and the water tribes hear of—”

“What invasion?” Zuko asked.

Rikai and Azula went quiet.

“So now you stop talking?” Mai bit out, staring at Azula.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Azula said, “Have none of you ever wondered why Ozai tried to kill me? Why he killed his own brother?”

“Of course we have,” Mai said. “We never had conclusive answers, though. Does it have something to do with what you and Rikai were talking about just now?”

“Your father is in on it, Mai. Why don’t you ask him?”

Zuko stalked out of the hut.

Azula cursed under her breath and followed him. After exchanging a look, Rikai and Ome stood and did the same.

Katara’s glance swept across the ones who were left. When her gaze landed on Suki, she saw the other girl’s eyes were downcast, head hanging as though in defeat. She’d been silent the entire time, even back in the meeting hall when she came back with Mai and Rikai.

“I think,” Katara said eventually, “Jinora’s plan sounds good. We can go as soon as we sort things out. We’ll get Keiko out of there.” She said that last part more to Suki than anyone else.

Yue said, “I’m with you. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

“We all will,” Sokka added.

Toph thumped him the back. “And I can always wreck Fire Crazylord’s palace if we have to break her out that way.”

“About that,” Ty Lee said, worrying at her bottom lip, “Azula and I talked earlier and…she was going to tell you this when we came here but, well…”

“Just say it, Ty Lee,” Mai told her, not unkindly.

“She wants to… to dethrone her dad.”

“What?”

“That’s what she told me. She thinks the only way we can be sure that Zuko and Keiko both end up safe is if she, uh…”

“Kill the Fire Lord?” Katara asked, then promptly regretted her bluntness, though only Jinora seemed to be visibly disturbed by the notion—not even Yue, whose attention was fully on Ty Lee.

“That’s not exactly what she said.”

“But it was implied.”

Ty Lee shrugged. “I, I guess. She _really_ hates him.”

That wasn’t news.

“I don’t blame her,” Suki said, looking up, prompting a dull silence. When she looked up, nothing of the helplessness her demeanor had suggested could be seen in the firm set of her features.

When a meager breeze came through the open windows, it dolefully failed to banish the circulating heat.

“So... it doesn’t seem like those three are coming back soon,” said Toph eventually. “You guys want to spar?” 

Sokka jumped on the offer right away. Katara knew her brother was prone to feeling agitated when he kept still when his thoughts were anything but.

Yue looked like she wanted to join them. Wordlessly—with a look a small tilt of her head—she asked Katara if she did, too. “I’m a little tired,” Katara said to her. “You go ahead, though. Get some fresh air.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

To her left, Mai and Suki seemed to be having the same conversation, with Suki insisting that Mai shouldn’t hang back from join the others on her account.

They filtered out of the hut, Katara and Suki staying behind. The day was far from done—Katara would’ve been on her break right now at the healing house, talking with the other healers—but Katara didn’t feel like going back to the healing house and resume doing her tasks as if nothing was amiss.

Suki had moved to sit against the wall across from Katara, holding one of her knees to her chest and staring at a random spot on the floor. A part of her thought she ought to leave and give Suki her space.

“My village has never been visited by hostile Fire Nation soldiers before,” Suki spoke quietly. “Or any hostile forces for that matter. We’re a peaceful people—we keep to ourselves, the Unagi keeps out the pirates from plundering the village. And Keiko has a reputation, you know. Everyone knows the island is under her protection.

“Meiling was the one who wrote to me… She told me the villagers were safe, just scared. In shock. They… saw Keiko get taken.”

“I’m really sorry, Suki,” Katara said solemnly, at a loss for anything else she could say.

“Don’t be. Knowing Keiko, she’d probably think it was worth it if she finds out we found Rikai.” Suki smiled, wan and morose. “Keiko told me they’re like sisters—Rikai spent her summers in Kyoshi Island when they were young, and Keiko used to regularly visit Sei'naka Island.”

“Where’s that?” she asked Suki, wanting to keep her talking, if that helped her cope with the situation.

“In the Fire Nation. It’s where Rikai’s from.”

“I’ve never heard of that place.”

“It’s very small. I’ve heard it’s a lot like home that way.”

They lapsed back into silence. It was less repressive this time, comfortable except for knowledge of Keiko being in danger hanging over them. Outside, Katara could hear the others sparring, the groan of earthbending, the lash of water whips and grunts of effort—none of the usual laughter and playful taunting though, not even from Toph.

Katara crossed her legs and rested her elbows on them, her chin leaning against her clasped hands. She thought of home, of what state she’d be in right now if her family were also in danger—it made something sick twist inside of her, fear and dread like bile in her throat. Banishing that thought away, she peered at Suki from the corner of her vision. She was still and silent, a warrior’s calm and collected cloak covering the storm of emotions she must be feeling right now.

What Ty Lee told them came back to her—Azula’s intention to unseat father from his throne. The idea of it was almost like a light at the end of the tunnel, like the sun peeking out. Everyone she loved was a potential target now, if Ozai were to learn of her involvement with Zuko’s escape. And Yue—she’d always been a target, his prophesied enemy. Perhaps the Fire Lord had only been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike the Avatar done

He’d have to go through Katara before he could even lay a finger on anyone she cared about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the all the kind words; they keep me going <3


End file.
